


Olowalu Paintball Explosion

by Tkeyla



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Case Fic, Casestory Big Bang, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tkeyla/pseuds/Tkeyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the Hawaii Five-0 team are playing paintball, they come across a young man who worked there and has been killed with a single shot through his head. They must figure out why he was killed and what the killers were trying to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Team Building!

**Author's Note:**

> Proofread by two most important people: lyricoloratura (for grammar, punctuation, effect vs. affect) and rocsfan for Hawaii 5-0-ness. Undying love and gratitude to both!! (Any remaining errors are all mine. Because I couldn’t seem to avoid rewriting even after I had their blessings.)
> 
> Cool artwork made by anuminis. Thanks!!

 

“Only you, Steven. Only you would want to spend our day off shooting at each other,” Danny said with what little breath he had to spare. He was leaning back against a huge boulder as Steve served as look-out while Danny reloaded.  
  
I couldn’t help but be amused as I witnessed their interaction, just as I had been since I had arrived in Hawaii. I was assigned by my Governor to come and observe the Hawaii Five-0 Task Force to see if we could replicate it in Washington state. We were having a problem with illegal trafficking of narcotics through Washington into Canada, and Governor Gregoire sent me to observe, absorb, see if we could establish the same type of task force. I suspected that the Five-0 Team was not thrilled to have me tagging along but as Governor Gregoire was close friends with Hawaii’s Governor Denning, they didn’t have a lot of choice but to agree to my presence.  
  
In the days I had already spent with the four core members of the team, I had learned much about what made them so successful. The head of the task force, Lt. Commander Steven J. McGarrett, was a Navy SEAL. He had transferred to the reserves when given the opportunity to head-up 5-0. He was tough, fair-minded, and tended to leap without looking.   
  
Commander McGarrett was held in check as well as anyone could hope by Detective Sergeant Daniel Williams. Detective Williams was originally from New Jersey and has lived in Hawaii for 2 ½ years. His move to “paradise” was the result of his divorce and his ex-wife’s subsequent relocation with their daughter to Hawaii. I had the honor of meeting Grace Williams over pizza and could understand how the entire team now considered her _their_ daughter. The feeling was mutual.   
  
The team included Detective Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly who is a native son – _kama’aina_ is the Hawaiian word for it. Detective Kelly is a voice of calm and a steady presence for them all. Commander McGarrett listens to Detective Kelly in ways he does not to anyone else, except possibly Detective Williams, but that’s mostly because Danny seems to always be yelling at McGarrett. Yelling may be his default setting. Detective Kelly is as different from Williams as could be possible, yet they work together seamlessly. I’m pretty sure Kelly is incapable of yelling, yet can quiet either of the other two men with a lift on an eyebrow.  
  
Detective Kelly is especially protective of the fourth member of the team, Officer Kono Kalakaua, his cousin. Officer Kalakaua has been with 5-0 from the beginning and was brought on even before she had officially graduated from the Police Academy. She is beautiful and looks like should she be a model, not an officer of the law. However, the first day I was with them, she subdued an escaping suspect with a solid round-house kick, taking out a man three times her weight. She’s not a delicate flower, of that there is no doubt. She is smart, eager to learn, and does not allow the men to treat her like the “token” female.  
  
I tried to bow out of their paintball game but they all insisted that I come along. The Chief Medical Examiner, Max Bergman, whom they considered an unofficial part of Five-0, was also playing. My presence helped balance the teams so that Team Blue and Team Yellow had the same number of players. I had assured Steve and Danny that it was not my first time in a paintball game and I would not be a liability. I’m pretty sure Danny didn’t care but I recognized the “win at all costs” look in Steve’s eye when we arrived at the facility.  
  
“First, it wasn’t my idea. And second, it’s team-building. You should appreciate that,” Steve said, watching Danny arm himself to the extent possible. Danny was seven inches shorter than Steve but you wouldn’t know it from the way he acted. I’m pretty sure Danny could take Steve down if it ever became necessary, height difference notwithstanding.   
  
“How is it team building when we are tracking Chin, Kono, and Max in hopes of capturing their flag?” Danny rightfully demanded. He hoisted himself up off the rock to take the look-out position, Steve ducking behind long enough to reload his own guns. None of the team was surprised to learn that his paintball guns were the biggest of anyone’s. Nor were they surprised that Steve possessed his very own paintball arsenal.   
  
“You good?” Steve asked me when his paintball guns were fully charged.  
  
“I’m good,” I assured them. Mine, like Danny’s, were rented from the park. We were not allowed to leave the office area until Steve had inspected them to ensure they would fire as accurately as paintball guns could be expected to. Danny had waited patiently during the inspection, rolling his eyes but indulging Steve’s military need for precision.  
  
“You’re the one who gave the passes to Kono for her birthday. I knew I should have demanded to be on her team. She won’t spend the entire day whining,” Steve said, peering cautiously over Danny’s shoulder. I was behind him. My place was to do what I was told. And to listen to them argue.  
  
“Hey. Hey. You are not using me as a human shield. I die you die. That’s how it works.”  
  
“Not necessarily. If I stay clear, I win,” Steve smirked, looking down at Danny, his expression far too competitive. I could not help but laugh at his declaration, making Danny frown at both of us.  
  
“We are a _team_ , Steven. You don’t win if we die,” Danny reminded him, using his free hand to emphasize his point, pointing from himself to me and back. “We all have to stay paint-free.”  
  
Steve shrugged and looked through the trees where we had taken up position. Our yellow flag was fifteen feet behind us and we knew it was inevitable that we would have to leave it undefended in order to capture Team Blue’s flag. “Okay. Here’s our strategy,” Steve was saying, Danny sighing at the ‘Commando’ tone of voice. “Danny, take the right flank. You go with Danny. I’m taking left. They are 20 yards to the north northwest.”  
  
“North northwest Rambo?”  
  
“That way,” Steve said, pointing out to our right. “Follow that tree line. We’ll catch them unawares.”  
  
“Fine. Fine,” Danny said, waving in the general direction Steve was pointing. “Alert me if you die.”  
  
“Roger that,” Steve said, getting into his crouch as though that would prevent Team Blue from seeing him. He stopped when his phone vibrated, taking it out of his paintball specific flak vest. “It’s Kono.”  
  
“Then answer it. They can’t track us out here. Even if they could, Chin promised us he wouldn’t,” Danny reminded him. Chin had demonstrated his proficiency with technology to an outstanding degree already. I’m no stranger around computers but Chin seems to _own_ them.  
  
Steve nodded curtly, putting it on speaker. “Hello,” he said quietly in case they were listening for our position.  
  
“Boss, we have a problem,” Kono informed him.  
  
“Other than the fact that we’ve spotted your locale and are about to take your flag?” Steve smirked.  
  
“This is a real problem,” Kono said. “We have a body.”  
  
“Max get in the way of a paintball?” Steve asked.  
  
“No. Max is fine. We have a _real_ dead body. We need you to come to our location.”  
  
“Nice try,” Steve said, smiling tightly.  
  
“What? What are you saying to her?” Danny demanded firmly, more hand waving accompanying his questions.   
  
“It’s just Kono trying the classic ‘we have a dead body’ gambit. Not going to work,” Steve informed us and Kono simultaneously.  
  
Danny reached up and took Steve’s phone, ignoring Steve’s protest. “Hey Babe. What’s going on?”  
  
“We’re over at shelter 16,” Kono said. “There’s a guy here with a bullet hole in his head. Max says he’s been dead for several hours at least.”  
  
“All right,” Danny said. “I’ll get Rambo to stand down and we’ll be right there.”  
  
“Thanks _brah_. At least one of you has some sense.”  
  
Danny hung up the phone and returned it to Steve, frowning up at him. “Come back to the real world. She’s serious. There’s a body with a bullet hole. A real dead body with a real bullet wound that really killed him.”  
  
“She’s playing us. Why are you falling for it?” Steve asked, looking down at Danny like he could not possibly believe Kono. I thought she sounded genuinely concerned but decided it was for the two of them to sort out. I simply waited and watched.  
  
“Because unlike you, I understand the basics of Human to Human communications. She is serious. It’s not a ploy to get us out from our cover,” Danny said, extracting the map from Steve’s back pocket to study it for the location of shelter 16.   
  
“You can’t be sure,” Steve said firmly.  
  
“I have an 11 year old, Steven. I can smell a lie a mile off. This isn’t one,” Danny told him as he started off toward the shelter. I decided to follow, Steve coming after us.  
  
“When they shoot you, you’ll have to buy the beer,” Steve reminded him.  
  
“They aren’t going to shoot any of us,” Danny said. They continued to argue the lack of Danny’s ‘strategy’ versus the lack of Steve’s good sense as we approached the indicated shelter. Max was squatting down, Chin and Kono standing on either side of him. “See? I told you. I told him. Would he listen? No.”  
  
“Okay, Danno. You were right. This time,” Steve said, looking down at Max. “What do we have?”   
  
Max looked up at him, his face pinched in what I could only assume was an excited, considering expression. He was wearing a camouflage jumpsuit under his camouflage TAC vest. “Male victim. Approximately 25 to 35. One gun shot wound to the head. Time of death estimated between 9 p.m. and 6 a.m. I’ll know more precisely when I can perform a proper examination.” The dead man was wearing jeans and a yellow tee shirt from the facility - _Olowalu Paintball Explosion._ He had the familiar, sad expression of the surprised dead. I hadn’t been witness to it often but I had seen it enough times to know he hadn’t seen it coming until the bullet struck him.  
  
Steve nodded, looking at Chin and Kono. Chin was wearing jeans and one of the signature blue and white shirts I had seen him in under his vest, not exactly the most subtle of outfits. But I knew it was very Chin. Kono was dressed in a black vest over a black _Olowalu Paintball Rules_ shirt and jeans, better to disguise her presence. Her shoes were sensible and sturdy. “Did you notify the manager of the facility?” Steve asked, assessing the situation.  
  
“She’s on her way,” Kono said. “She was working in the front office so it shouldn’t be much longer.”  
  
“All right,” Steve said, looking around at their location. “You call HPD?”  
  
“On their way,” Chin confirmed.  
  
“Do you know how many players are out?” Danny asked, stripping off his vest and putting it on a convenient picnic table. “What? What’s with the face?” Danny asked Steve when he frowned at him.  
  
“Our vic was shot and killed. The shooter could still be here,” Steve said.  
  
“Unless he shoots me with a paintball, this vest will do me no good,” Danny reminded him.  
  
“Paintball vests,” Kono said.  
  
“Mine’s not,” Steve said.  
  
“Of course yours isn’t,” Danny said, waving at it. “Because you would take a shower in your TAC vest if it wouldn’t waste water and make your showers last longer than 3 minutes.”  
  
“Three minutes?” Kono said with a small laugh. I was wondering the same thing and was glad Kono had asked although we didn’t get much of an answer.  
  
“Navy showers, Kono. Don’t even get me started,” Danny said.  
  
“Please don’t get him started. He’ll never stop,” Steve said.   
  
Danny’s no doubt verbose reply was stopped by the arrival of a woman driving a bright yellow golf cart.  
  
“I’m Hiako Ueuna,” she said. She was a native of the island and looked a little like Kono, the same general height and complexion, her dark hair held in a ponytail, her yellow shirt proclaiming _Olowalu Paintball Rules_. “What seems to be the problem?”  
  
“I’m Commander Steve McGarrett,” Steve said, extending his hand to shake hers. “Our team discovered this body,” he explained, pointing to the poor young man.  
  
“Oh my,” Hiako said with a gasp. “Oh no no no.”  
  
“I take it you know him,” Danny said, his hand on the woman’s arm. She looked ready to pass out and he was going to catch her if that was the case.  
  
“It’s Ronald Sharper,” she said in a very quiet voice.  
  
“He works here?” Kono asked, sympathy in her tone and on her face.  
  
“Yes. He works - worked in the office mainly. Inventory control. Shipping and receiving,” Hiako said, shaking her head.  
  
“Was he working today?” Kono asked. Chin and Steve had eased away, going to talk to the HPD officers who had just arrived and were beginning to cordon off the area. I stayed with Kono and Danny since HPD wasn’t exactly thrilled I had been assigned to the task force. I hadn’t gotten the entire story but there was apparently some simmering resentment toward anyone from the mainland – _haole_ was the local word.  Pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment but I hadn’t taken the time to ask anyone. I knew it made no difference and simply kept my distance whenever possible.  
  
“No. He wasn’t here yesterday either. The last day he worked was Tuesday. He was supposed to work tomorrow.”  
  
“Does he have a wife? Family?” Danny asked with an appropriate mixture of authority and sympathy.  
  
“His parents,” Hiako said. “Lovely people. They are going to be devastated.” Hiako looked devastated herself which we could understand.  
  
“If you’ll provide us with their information, we’ll make the notification,” Kono assured her.   
  
“Yes. Of course,” Hiako said absently.   
  
“Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Ronald?” Danny asked as gently as that question could be asked.  
  
“No. Not Ronnie. Everyone loved him.”   
  
“We’ll find who did this,” Kono said firmly.   
  
“I just can’t imagine how this could have happened,” Hiako said, shaking her head. “It’s unimaginable.”  
  
“I know it’s a shock,” Kono agreed. “We’ll find them.”  
  
Hiako finally looked away from Ronald’s body to focus on Kono, glancing over at Steve as he gave orders to the HPD officers. “As much as I loved Ronald, I wouldn’t think his death would be a matter for Five-0.” I was a little surprised that Hiako knew they were the task force but then they did tend to make the papers on a regular basis. I had been able to learn quite a bit about them via Google when I was assigned this trip. Kono and Danny didn’t seem surprised that she knew so I guessed they were often identified by the locals.  
  
“We were here playing paintball,” Kono told her. “Team building.”  
  
“I see,” Hiako said with a sigh. “At least I know you’ll find who did this.”  
  
“You can be sure of that,” Danny promised her.  
  
“Once you’ve solved his murder, I hope you’ll come back and play with us again,” Hiako said sadly, a slow tear running down her cheek.  
  
“Of course we will,” Kono said, a hand on her shoulder. Kono nodded in thanks when Danny handed Hiako his handkerchief.   
  
“You can come play free whenever you want,” Hiako said with a watery smile. “Just please find out who hurt Ronnie.”  
  
“We will,” Kono promised, turning slightly to look up at Steve when he and Chin returned.  
  
“Is there anything you can tell us about Ronald that might help us?” Chin asked evenly. It was the only tone of voice I had heard him use although this time it sounded filled with sympathy.  
  
“No. He didn’t have any enemies. He lived at home with his parents. He was attending University of Hawaii at night. No debts. No drug habits,” Hiako said, shaking her head in bewilderment.  
  
“Does he have a computer here?” Steve asked.  
  
“Yes. We each have our own,” she agreed, wiping her eyes and nose. “Do you need his?”  
  
“It might help,” Chin said patiently.   
  
“Of course. I’ll get it for you,” she said. “It’s in the main office.”  
  
“I’ll come with,” Kono offered to Hiako’s agreement. “Do you need me to drive?”  
  
“If you don’t mind,” Hiako said, climbing into the golf cart on the passenger side, the tears flowing more freely as they drove away.  
  
“Max?” Steve asked, looking over at him.  
  
“One bullet. From a semi-automatic rifle,” he said, looking up at Steve.  
  
“Yes,” Steve agreed. “Probably an AR-15.”  
  
“I don’t even want to know how you can know that just by looking at the vic,” Danny said, shaking his head.  
  
“It’s classified,” Steve told him.  
  
“Color me surprised,” Danny replied. “You get photos of the crime scene?” he asked Chin who nodded in agreement.  
  
“Who is going to make the family notification?” Chin asked. Steve flinched at the word, Chin shaking his head. “All right. Kono and I will go.”   
  
I was surprised by Steve’s reaction but Chin took it in stride. Danny didn’t look surprised that Steve clearly wasn’t comfortable doing it so it was not an issue for any of them.  
  
“Thank you. I owe you one,” Steve said, clapping Chin on the shoulder.  
  
“You owe me one million,” Chin corrected, Steve unable to argue with that. “HPD is clearing out the course. There were 32 people playing.”  
  
“Okay,” Steve acknowledged. “It can be opened back up tomorrow. I know Friday has to be one of their biggest days.”  
  
“We’ll tell Ms Ueuna on our way out,” Danny said. “You ready to go or did you want to look around a while longer?”  
  
“I think we should see if we can find where the shooter was set up,” Steve said, turning to face southeast, the direction the shot would have been fired. “You coming?” he asked me. I agreed I would.  
  
“I’ll go get Kono and we’ll make the notification,” Chin said. “I’ll call when we’re done so you can let us know where you are.”  
  
“Right,” Steve agreed, going over to speak with the sergeant from HPD.  
  
“Thank you,” Danny said to Chin. “We would do it. But Steve, well, you know.”  
  
“I do know,” Chin agreed. “Beers on are him when we close this case.”  
  
“Absolutely,” Danny confirmed, waiting as Steve returned. “How far do you think the shooter was from here?”  
  
“At least 75 yards,” Steve said, pointing toward a stand of trees on the far side of the meadow that adjoined the shelter.   
  
“All right,” Danny said. We all headed off toward the trees as Chin turned to go to the office in order to collect Kono and his car. Max said he was returning to his lab with the body, HPD loading the stretcher in the back of the van.  
  
  
  
  
We arrived back at HQ first, Danny calling Max to see if he had anything yet. Danny wasn’t surprised when Max told him that results were never so quick and surely the Detective knew that which rendered this phone call entirely moot. Danny apologized in a manner I’m sure he hoped was acceptable and hung up, watching Steve go through the slides of the crime scene. I had also been studying them but nothing stood out.  
  
“See anything new?” Danny asked as Steve paused on one of the photos of the victim, his blank eyes staring unseeingly up at the bright blue of the sky.  
  
“No,” Steve said, going to the next photo.   
  
Danny answered his phone, placing it on the tech table so we could hear the conversation as well. “Chin. You’re on speaker,” Danny said in greeting.  
  
“We told Ronald’s mother,” Chin said. “She took it hard. As you would expect.”  
  
“And his father?” Steve asked, bouncing on his toes and earning a silent frown from Danny.  
  
“His mother wanted to do it. We drove her from the elementary school where she teaches to the bank where Mr. Sharper is assistant manager. She said we could leave them alone so we did,” Chin said.  
  
“All right,” Danny acknowledged. “Do they want to view the body?”  
  
“Mrs. Sharper said she didn’t think so. But she’s pretty torn up,” Chin said.  
  
“I get that,” Danny said. “Where are you now?”  
  
“Mrs. Sharper said that Ronnie has…had a boyfriend. We’re going to talk to him,” Chin explained.  
  
“Do you have any reason to think he’s involved in Ronald’s death?” Steve asked.  
  
“We won’t know until we talk to him. Mrs. Sharper said they’d been dating for over a year. They met at UH. She said Ronnie was majoring in Political Science. He wanted to enter politics to help reduce the amount of gun violence,” Chin said.  
  
“Oh,” Danny said. I thought that summed it up pretty well. What else was there to say about the irony of the situation?  
  
“Yeah,” Steve had to agree. “Come back here when you’re done with the boyfriend.”   
  
“Roger that,” Chin agreed.  
  
“Kono there?” Danny asked in concern.  
  
“I’m here,” Kono confirmed. “I’m okay.”  
  
“You sure, Babe?” Danny asked her gently.  
  
“Yeah. You know.”  
  
“All right,” Danny said with a nod they could not see. “We’ll see you when you get here.” Danny disconnected the call and turned his attention to study Steve who was watching him with a new expression. “What?”  
  
“You don’t think it’s a hate crime, do you?” Steve asked.  
  
“Hate crime? Because he was majoring in Poli Sci? Some rival gang from the Philosophy department?”  
  
“No, dumbass. Because he’s gay.”  
  
I had to stifle a laugh at their conversation. I took a step back so they wouldn’t feel like they had to amend their usual method of communicating.  
  
“First off, I’m not the dumbass here. And secondly, why would someone use a high powered rifle to shoot one college student because he’s gay? This is 2012, in case you have forgotten. Homophobia is not as rampant in the real world as it is in the military world where far too many of your ideas were formed for my personal comfort.”  
  
“I’m _not_ a dumbass,” Steve said. “And gays are no longer banned from the military, in case _you’ve_ forgotten. I don’t think homophobia is rampant. But there are plenty of zealots out there. Not that I’m one of them.”  
  
“You are a zealot of your own causes. The ones that live inside your head. That have very little to do with the real world where the rest of us spend the vast majority of our time,” Danny said.  
  
“I’m not a homophobe,” Steve said for emphasis.  
  
“I never thought you were, Babe,” Danny assured him, turning back to the tech table.  
  
“Why do you call Kono that?” Steve asked, moving to stand a little too close to Danny – just like they always seemed to, two magnets inexplicably drawn toward each other.  
  
I was pretty sure they had forgotten I was there and felt like if I could, I should have left them alone. But it wasn’t possible so I stayed quiet and observed.  
  
“What? Kono is her name, isn’t it? Or is there some Hawaiian ritual I don’t know that means _haoles_ can’t know the real names of the _kama’aina_?”  
  
“Not Kono. Babe.”  
  
“I call everyone babe, Babe. You haven’t noticed?” Danny asked, looking up at Steve like he was absolutely sure that Steve had had a blow to the head that had gone unnoticed by Danny.  
  
“Not everyone,” Steve said, muttering something else Danny couldn’t catch. I didn’t hear it either but I would have paid money to know what he said.  
  
“Once again, for the rest of the class, Steven,” Danny said, looking over at me with an indulgent smile that I noticed was generally reserved just for Steve.  
  
“Never mind,” Steve said, shaking his head and turning to go into his office.  
  
“Where are you going?”  
  
“To call Max,” Steve called over his shoulder.  
  
“I just did that. He’ll be royally pissed if you call him again so soon. He’ll let us know the minute he has anything to tell us,” Danny said, following Steve into his office. I stayed where I was lurking since I could still see and hear them. Was it eavesdropping if they knew I was there?  
  
“I need to do _something_ ,” Steve said, sitting heavily in his chair and frowning up at Danny.  
  
“I get that. I really do. But until we have bad guys to chase or suspects to dangle off roofs, we’re going to have to wait.”  
  
“ _One time,_ Danny. I hung a suspect off a roof one time.”  
  
“One time more than anyone else I know,” Danny informed him. “Let’s go grab a sandwich. We’ll be back by the time Chin and Kono get here.”  
  
Steve shook his head. “That doesn’t feel right.”  
  
“Eating?” Danny asked, frowning at Steve when he stood up. “Then where are you going?”  
  
“We’ll go to the University and talk to his professors.”  
  
“Idea is sound. But it’s still winter break,” Danny reminded him, watching as Steve sat back in his chair with a huff.   
  
“We should have brought his computer with us,” Steve said, unnecessarily straightening the papers on his desk.  
  
“To what ends? We couldn’t do anything with it,” Danny pointed out.  
  
“We could have… you know,” Steve said with an all encompassing wave of his hand.  
  
“Sure. Or we can actually take a chill and eat while we wait like normal people which in no way implies that I think you are one,” Danny suggested. “Come on. Let’s go grab some sandwiches.”  
  
“All right,” Steve reluctantly agreed. “Call Chin and Kono and tell them to stop on their way back.”  
  
“And you can’t call them exactly why?”  
  
“I’m in charge. I give the orders,” Steve said cheekily, smiling when Danny had to laugh before calling Chin as ordered. We went down to the sandwich shop on the corner, where they managed to eat between arguing about everything under the sun.  
  
  
  
Chin and Kono returned not long after we finished eating and recounted their afternoon. They had gone to the lifeguard station when they arrived at Waikiki Beach. Mrs. Sharper had told them that Ronnie’s boyfriend, Nepoe Paiohipio, was working as a lifeguard until sunset and they should find him there.   
  
They had found the head lifeguard at the station, surprised to discover it was one of their cousins, Lapee. She had told them where to find Nepoe and had said she would cover his station when they said that he would probably be leaving. They had assured her that Nepoe wasn’t in any trouble and then gone to tell him.  
  
Chin and Kono had told Nepoe that Ronnie had been killed and at first he couldn’t understand what they were saying. It was a common reaction of the family and friends of victims – shock and inability to absorb the information.   
  
At first, Nepoe had thought Chin and Kono were going to tell him that Ronnie had been arrested protesting again. He finally understood that Ronnie was dead and agreed to their suggestion that they take him to Ronnie’s house. Ronnie’s mother had suggested it and they agreed it was the best idea.  
  
On the way to the Sharpers’ house, Kono asked Nepoe if Ronnie was with him the night before. Nepoe said he wasn’t and thought he had been at home. The Sharpers thought Ronnie was with Nepoe. When Kono asked when he had seen Ronnie last, Nepoe said it had been the day before and Ronnie was wearing jeans and a yellow _Olowalu Paintball_ shirt. He didn’t appear upset by anything although Nepoe said he had seemed a little distracted. Nepoe had eaten most of Ronnie’s fries at lunch and Ronnie hadn’t yelled at him. Kono said that had made Nepoe cry for the first time.  
  
“Thank you for doing the notification,” Danny said, a warm hand on Kono’s arm. She shrugged but it was clear it had affected her. When it was no longer hard to make notifications was when you had to leave law enforcement.  
  
“We ran background on him,” Steve said, looking up from the table he had been studying with far more intensity than it strictly needed. “Nepoe has no record. Not even a parking ticket.”  
  
“What about Ronnie’s arrests for protesting?” Kono asked, looking up at the screens.  
  
“Trivial arrests,” Danny said. “No charges ever pressed. Mostly activism stuff. Save the whales. Withdraw from Iraq. What you’d expect from a Poli Sci major.”  
  
“Nothing worth being killed over,” Chin said, watching the pictures move across the screens. “Max have anything yet?”  
  
“Not yet. Danny’s too scared to call and check,” Steve claimed, watching Chin connect Ronnie’s computer to the tech table.  
  
“You keep believing that, Big Guy,” Danny said, shaking his head. “This his computer from work?”  
  
“Yeah. We didn’t ask about a home computer,” Kono said in realization. “We should have gotten it.”  
  
“Since he was killed at work, that’s the most logical place to start,” Chin told her. “This doesn’t give us anything, we’ll get his home computer.”  
  
We watched Chin pull up the computer files, all of the information pertaining to Ronnie’s paintball job. There were invoices, purchase orders, email exchanges with vendors, a few emails from Olowalu Paintball Explosion players. All very ordinary, all very non-threatening.  
  
“This is incredibly not helpful,” Danny observed, saying out loud what we were all thinking. “He seemed to be very good at his job.”  
  
“That’s what Ms Ueuna told me. He was efficient, thorough, a model employee. Except for being anti-guns. But his feeling was that people who played paintball didn’t necessarily need to shoot real ones,” Kono said.  
  
“Nice rationalization,” Danny said with a nod. “Did she tell you anything else?”  
  
“No. She has no idea why Ronnie would have been there on his day off. And after dark. They close at sundown. Better for the environment not to install lights,” Kono explained.  
  
“Is it true you can rent it at night for private games?” Steve asked.  
  
“You can,” Chin agreed.  
  
“Ms Ueuna said they haven’t had a night session since last month. There weren’t any this week. No one should have been there after dark,” Kono said.  
  
“Surveillance video?” Steve asked.  
  
“No,” Chin said, shaking his head. “They keep track of everyone who enters or exits when it’s open. She said the corporation didn’t see any need for surveillance. This might change their mind.”  
  
“Who owns _Paintball Explosion_?” I asked. I didn’t know if the question was welcome or the information relevant but in my experience all information pertaining to a murder could be useful.  
  
“Ms Ueuna said it’s part of the _Paintball Explosion_ chain. Two locations on the islands. Fourteen on the mainland,” Kono said.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Steve said, bouncing on his toes. They had told me earlier that doing that meant his frustration was growing and if there wasn’t some real action very soon, breakage would begin occurring. “Was there anything special about shelter 16? Any reason for him to have been there?”  
  
“That shelter has a unit they use for storing extra supplies,” Chin said, looking at the schematic that he found on Ronnie’s computer.  
  
“He was responsible for inventory control, right?” Steve asked.  
  
“Why would he be looking into it after dark? On his day off?” Danny asked. “Are there other shelters that have storage units?”  
  
“There are 10 shelters altogether. There are 6 that have storage, the smaller shelters. The 4 larger shelters have more picnic tables and larger barbeque pits,” Chin said, pointing at the different shelters on the map.  
  
“Shelters are often used for storage,” I said, pointing at several of the smaller ones. “Paintballs take up a lot of room.”  
  
“You paintball often?” Chin asked me.  
  
“Sometimes. Not a lot,” I said with a shrug.  
  
“If there are only 10 shelters, why was the one we were by called #16?” Kono asked, leaning closer to Danny to see the map.  
  
“They start at 10,” Chin said. “And there’s no 13.”  
  
“That makes sense. I guess,” Kono said. “Where does that leave us?”  
  
“Kono, go over to Max’s lab and see if he’ll tell you anything,” Steve ordered.  
  
“Max is rendered speechless every time Kono gets near him,” Danny said firmly. “We’ll go. You keep looking through Ronnie’s computer.”  
  
“Got it,” Kono said with a nod, watching Danny practically drag Steve out of the bullpen.   
  
“Why do they act like that?” I asked, watching them leave close together.  
  
“Like what?” Chin asked absently, going through Ronnie’s files.  
  
“Like they are 13,” I said quietly. It was rude, I knew. But I didn’t think Chin or Kono would take offense from it.  
  
“Because they are,” Chin said, shaking his head and smiling at me in conspiracy.   
  
“Oh totally,” Kono said, winking at me before turning back to look at the computer files Chin was downloading. “You might want to go with them. For the amusement value if nothing else.”  
  
I decided she had a good point and hurried to catch up. They slowed for me, continuing their conversation with barely a pause.  
  
“Let me do the talking,” Danny instructed Steve as we approached Max’s lab.  
  
“Then we’ll never find out anything. You’ll talk so much our ears will bleed,” Steve said.  
  
“Har, har. You are quite the comedian. Oh my sides.”  
  
“Shut up,” Steve finally said. I suspected he thought there was nothing else he could say that would even begin to slow down Danny. We entered Max’s lab, the smell familiar and slightly unsettling, as always.   
  
“Ah. Commander. Detective. I was preparing to call you with my preliminary results,” Max said, straightening to look at us, pushing his glasses up his nose.  
  
“What have you found?” Danny asked, focusing on Max. From the look on his face and his body language, I could tell that being up close with dead bodies didn’t exactly freak him out, but all things being equal, he preferred visiting with the living. And who could blame him for that preference?  
  
“Nothing,” Max said, blinking and reminding me of an owl. Which frankly made very little sense even inside my own head. Maybe reading Harry Potter to my niece every night before I came to Hawaii had caused Hedwig to build a nest in my brain.  
  
“Nothing,” Steve repeated, looking down at Max, his face an interesting mix of dismay and incredulity.  
  
“He was killed with a single shot to the head. Death caused by .223 caliber ammunition. TOD was approximately 0600 this morning based on amount of cooling of the core body temperature. Sunrise was at 7:09 a.m. We discovered the body about four hours after he was killed.”  
  
“Sunrise?” Danny asked.  
  
“The amount of sun exposure helps to determine the TOD, Detective,” Max said as though explaining it to a small, somewhat unintelligent child. I’m sure Danny didn’t appreciate his tone but didn’t react except for one shake of his head.  
  
“Right,” Danny said. “We found an impression in the grass 73 yards from the shelter. That would be from the shooter, right?”  
  
“That is an acceptable hypothesis,” Max agreed. “Any shell casing?”  
  
“No,” Steve said. “It was a professional job.”  
  
“Clearly,” Max agreed, doing his owl-blinking again. “Otherwise, the victim was a healthy 26 year old male. No injuries. No illnesses. No suspicious substances found on the body.”  
  
“All right,” Steve said. “This seems a dead end.”  
  
“Anything out of the ordinary on his clothes? His shoes?” Danny asked.  
  
“There was mud on his shoes consistent with the terrain of the paintball park,” Max said.  
  
“It rained last night. It would make sense his shoes would have been muddy if he was there before daybreak,” Danny said.  
  
“But why was he there on his day off before the park was even open?” Steve asked, frustration evident in his tone.  
  
“That’s the big question,” Danny agreed. “Let’s go see what Chin has found.”  
  
Steve nodded, and after thanking Max, we returned to headquarters to find Chin and Kono still going through Ronnie’s computer files.  
  
“Anything?” Danny asked hopefully.  
  
“Not yet,” Chin said. I heard some frustration leaking into his tone which I was pretty sure was unusual for him. “Bills of lading. Invoices. Orders. Tracking numbers. All very ordinary and boring. Nothing worth being killed over.”  
  
“We probably need to get his home computer then,” Kono suggested reluctantly. “Maybe it was something unrelated to Paintball Explosion.”  
  
“We don’t have any reason to believe someone was targeting him,” Chin reminded her. “Nepoe said Ronnie didn’t have any enemies. And an AR-15 wouldn’t be the choice weapon of a college student.”  
  
“Who would use one?” Kono asked. “Wouldn’t there be a registry of them?”  
  
“Theoretically they all have to be registered. But you can buy them at Wal-Mart,” I pointed out.  
  
“Great. I’ll just get Steve a gift certificate there for his birthday,” Kono said shaking her head in clear dismay.  
  
“ _Guns, Gear, and Ammo_ would be even better,” Danny told her to Steve’s happy nods.  
  
“There’s no such thing, is there?” I had to ask, making Danny laugh. But no one answered my question which was fine. I’d Google it when I had time. If I remembered.  
  
“I’m all for the 2nd Amendment,” Kono said. “But really? High powered rifles at the same place you buy toilet paper and baby food?”  
  
“You are right about that, cuz,” Chin had to agree. “Makes our jobs harder.”  
  
“That’s for sure,” Kono said. “What now?”  
  
“Now I have to go pick up my little girl from school. It’s our day off and I have a dinner date,” Danny announced happily.  
  
“You’re having dinner with Grace?” Steve asked. His expression was one that Danny had previously termed _kicked-puppy-dog-face_.  
  
“It’s Thursday, isn’t it? Don’t I always have dinner with Gracie on Thursday, providing you haven’t blown up us or yet another warehouse?”  
  
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Where are you going for dinner?”  
  
“I don’t know. I usually let her decide,” Danny reminded him, looking up at Steve’s expression of barely hidden longing. “Would you like to join us, Steven?”  
  
“If you’re sure,” Steve said, already heading into his office where he picked up his keys to the Camaro and to shut down his computer. “We’ll take up again tomorrow morning.”  
  
Chin and Kono nodded in agreement, watching Steve and Danny leaving the office, Danny’s hands more fully defining whatever critical point he was in the middle of making. I tried to stop from smiling at the manner of their departure but suspect I didn’t fully succeed.  
  
“I guess we should wrap it up too,” Chin decided, powering down his tech table.  
  
“Sounds good. Not really a day off, huh?”  
  
“Typical,” Chin said. “You ready?” he asked me before gathering his keys and phone. I agreed that I was and followed them out into the hallway, Chin locking the door behind us.  
  
“Do you want to come have dinner with us?” Kono asked with genuine enthusiasm. “Malia is going to come. I know you want to meet her.”  
  
“I don’t want to intrude,” I said, glancing from Kono to Chin, both of whom were nodding.   
  
“Please do come,” Chin said, heading for the stairway. I followed them down and out, riding with Kono to the restaurant. Chin said he would meet us there after he had collected his wife from the hospital.  
  
  
 _To be continued..._  
  



	2. Shelters 12 and 16

I arrived at 5-0 headquarters the next morning at 8:30, the time they generally reported to work. Only Danny was present when I entered the bullpen. He looked up from his computer and waved me over so I joined him in his office.  
  
“Good morning,” I said.  
  
“Good morning to you,” Danny returned. “You’re here early.”  
  
“Isn’t 8:30 the usual time for you guys?”  
  
“Generally,” he confirmed. “Steve and Kono are shredding some waves. And Chin is still on his honeymoon.”  
  
“Hasn’t he been married for over a year?” I asked with a laugh.  
  
“Yeah, well,” Danny shrugged with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Have you discovered the secrets to the taskforce?”  
  
I had to laugh again, shaking my head. “You four are unique in many ways.”  
  
“I never doubted that,” he agreed.   
  
“What do you think accounts for your success rate? It’s impressive by any standard.”  
  
“Having the backing of the Governor, with the means to get the job done,” Danny said. It sounded well rehearsed. I’m certainly not the first who has tried to figure out how they got so much done with so few people.  
  
“And the dedication all of you show to your work,” I suggested.  
  
“It helps,” he agreed, rocking back slightly in his chair.   
  
“It also helps that you and Chin are veterans of police work,” I said to his nods.  
  
“Yeah. Steve’s come a long way since the task force was formed but he still crosses the line more times than I’d like,” Danny told me.  
  
“I am curious about that,” I admitted. “He’s military. But he doesn’t follow the rules. He’s kind of a walking oxymoron.”  
  
“That he is,” Danny said with a laugh. “It’s because he was a SEAL. They had to get it done how ever they could. Military code has its place but when you are trying to find terrorists who don’t play by any rules, you can’t either.”  
  
“Yes,” I agreed, considering his words. “Your conviction rate is amazing.”  
  
“You mean what with him going off the rails at the drop of a hat,” Danny said lightly.  
  
“Chin and Kono were telling me stories from your first year. Sounds like Steve has been reined in a lot since then.”  
  
“He has,” Danny agreed. “Being arrested for Governor Jameson’s murder quelled some of his gung-ho-ness. He realized he did need to think twice or three times before rushing in. And with appropriate back-up, preferably me.”  
  
“Do you think your task force can be replicated?” I asked, very curious about his perspective on the possibility. I was beginning to think they were a rare breed who came together perfectly and the pattern could not be copied.  
  
“Our processes probably can be, if your governor is willing to provide you the authority and the freedom. The four of us all have specialties that make sure it works.” He paused, his focus turning inward. “I don’t know if any other task force would be so lucky.”  
  
“You are right about that,” I agreed, standing. “I thought I’d look through Ronnie’s files.”  
  
“The table is turned off,” Danny said in warning.  
  
“Chin showed me how to turn it on. He promised not to scold if I used it before he arrived.”  
  
“Have fun then,” Danny said with a wave at the outside of his office. He was still smiling as I left his office to boot up the tech table.  
  
I pulled up the files Chin had downloaded from Ronnie’s computer, looking at the invoices. Something seemed off but I couldn’t tell exactly what it was. I was about to ask Danny if he had time to come look when Steve and Kono arrived, their faces open and happy, their skin glowing as it would only do from copious amounts of fresh air and sunshine.  
  
“Have fun?” I asked with a laugh.  
  
“Waves were prime,” Kono said, fist bumping Steve before disappearing into the break room for some coffee.  
  
“You ever surf?” Steve asked me.  
  
“No. Washington isn’t known for its friendly shoreline,” I said.  
  
“Too bad,” Steve replied before going into Danny’s office to listen to Danny lecture him on adult responsibilities and arriving on time and setting an appropriate example for the other members of the team. I could see Steve nodding but I had the feeling he had no idea what Danny was actually saying, a situation I had been told was typical of them.  
  
It wasn’t long after that Chin arrived, all smiles and bringing with him a sense of calm. He wore a blue shirt with subtle pale blue flowers that would work only for him.  
  
“’Morning,” he said to me, looking up at the invoices on the screens.  
  
“Good morning,” I returned, going to the next invoice.  
  
“Find anything?”  
  
“No,” I said, looking up at them again. “But these seem _off_ somehow. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”  
  
“Hmm…” Chin said before taking his phone out. “This is Chin Ho Kelly.”  
  
“This is Nepoe, Ronnie’s…uhm… I mean.”   
  
I could hear that his sentence ended with a hiccup as though Nepoe was having trouble retaining his composure, which was certainly understandable.   
  
“Yes, Nepoe. Take your time. I’m going to put you on speaker so we can all hear you, if that’s okay,” Chin said warmly.   
  
“Yeah. I mean, sure, okay,” Nepoe was saying when Chin hit his speaker button. Nepoe sounded exhausted, weighed down by sorrow.  
  
“What can I do for you?” Chin asked.  
  
“I was…uhm… going through… uhm… Ronnie’s computer,” Nepoe said. “I figured I needed to put an auto-reply on his email accounts.”  
  
“I know how hard this must be for you, Nepoe,” Chin said in sympathy, looking over at Danny and Steve when they left Danny’s office. Chin continued to speak in the same soothing tone. “Would it help if I came to see you?”  
  
“No… I don’t think so,” Nepoe said, taking an audible breath. “I found an email. In the draft folder. He never sent it.”  
  
“Who was it to?” Chin asked with patience.  
  
“It doesn’t say. But it says he thought something strange was going on. At Olowalu Paintball.”  
  
“I see,” Chin said. “Are you comfortable forwarding it to me?”  
  
“Sure. Of course,” Nepoe said with some relief.   
  
Chin provided his email address, waiting just a moment before a new message appeared on the tech table. “Thank you. Are you hanging in there?”  
  
“As well as I can,” Nepoe said. “The funeral isn’t until Monday. It would have been Sunday but it’s easier for me and Hiako for it to be Monday. Not that I couldn’t have gotten off work. But somehow knowing I’ll be on the beach tomorrow and Sunday makes it easier.”  
  
“I understand,” Chin said. “We’ll keep you informed if we find anything out.”  
  
“Thank you,” Nepoe said before hanging up.  
  
“This is the draft Ronnie never sent,” Chin said for Kono’s sake as she joined us by the tech table. He opened it, displaying the unsent message on the screens.  
  
 _maybe it’s notihing. I don’t know. But maybe it’s improtant. I guess I should let you decide. It seems mostly to be shelter 16 and 12. I can meet you there tomrrow.  
  
_ “When did he compose this?” Kono asked, studying the screen.  
  
“Mmm…looks like Monday,” Chin said. “Nepoe said it didn’t have a recipient in it.”  
  
“Shelters 16 and 12,” Danny said. “Are they both storage shelters?”  
  
“According the map they are,” Chin agreed.  
  
“Danny and I will go check those storage units,” Steve said, the others nodding in agreement. “Kono, call Hiako and let her know we’re coming. Chin, call Nepoe and ask if you can borrow Ronnie’s computer. If he’s okay with it, you can go and get it.”  
  
“Right,” Chin agreed.  
  
“You coming with us?” Steve asked me.  
  
“If I won’t be in your way,” I said.  
  
“Not a problem,” Steve said. Making sure they had everything and that Kono would call Paintball Explosion, we went downstairs and into the Camaro. I got into the back as Steve got into the driver’s side and Danny took the passenger seat.  
  
“Is this really your car, Danny?” I asked after Steve had pulled out of the parking lot.  
  
“Yes,” Danny said, frowning over at Steve. “I’m guessing your next question is why does _he_ always drive it.”  
  
“No,” I said, laughing. “I don’t have to ask.”  
  
“See, Super SEAL. Everyone knows what a control freak you are,” Danny said.  
  
“I didn’t hear anything about ‘control freak,’” Steve said in a tone that implied he couldn’t possibly care less what I or anyone else may or may not call him.   
  
“It was heavily implied,” Danny asserted.  
  
“Implied,” Steve repeated as though he didn’t know the meaning of the word.  
  
“Yes _implied_. This is my car. Which I am never permitted to drive.”  
  
“You drive like an old man,” Steve said as though that explained it all.  
  
“You drive like a _mad_ man,” Danny countered, breaking off long enough to answer his phone. “Hey Kono. Got you on speaker.”  
  
“I talked to Hiako. She’ll meet you at the office.”  
  
“Thanks,” Danny said. “Are there many players out today?”  
  
“Not yet. She said there will be 65 or so by noon,” Kono said.  
  
“All right. We won’t be there that long,” Danny said.  
  
“Mrs. Sharper called,” Chin’s voice said over the phone. “She wants to know if we can release Ronnie’s body tomorrow.”  
  
“Double-check with Max,” Danny said. “If he has no objections, then it’s fine. If Max has no need to retain it, we can release it to his family today.”  
  
“Roger that,” Chin agreed. “And Nepoe said he will bring Ronnie’s computer here. He’ll drop it off on his way to Waikiki.”  
  
“Okay,” Steve said. “You’ll mine it for info, just in case.”  
  
“Of course,” Chin agreed.   
  
“All right,” Danny said. “We should be back well before lunch. We’ll let you know when we’re on our way home.”  
  
“All right,” Chin said before Danny disconnected.  
  
I watched the beautiful scenery pass by the window as Steve and Danny argued the entire time about… something. I wasn’t paying attention to their conversation in all honesty. And I think they had forgotten I was with them.  
  
Steve pulled the Camaro into a space close to the office, and he and Danny left the car. Danny held his seat up while I climbed out, not the most athletic or graceful of maneuvers but I was standing next to it before Steve made it to the top step of the building.  
  
We entered the cool white building that housed the offices, the windows open to allow the breeze to blow straight through. There was a young woman behind the front counter who looked like she had lost her best friend. I thought that perhaps in this case the cliché was a truth.  
  
“May I help you?” she asked before blotting her nose with a crumbled tissue.  
  
“Five-0,” Steve said. “We’re here to see Ms Ueuna.”  
  
“Yes, of course,” the girl whose name tag read Na'ee. “You’ll find out who killed Ronnie, won’t you?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
“We are going to do everything we can,” Danny told her gently, a reassuring hand on her arm.  
  
Na’ee sniffed and nodded, pointing back toward one of the offices that appeared to be empty.   
  
“Is she here?” Steve asked, frowning at the girl.  
  
She looked up at him with a slightly apprehensive expression, a new tissue pressed to her nose.  
  
“She knew we were coming,” Danny explained in a much gentler tone. “We thought she would be in her office.” Any answer Na’ee may have given was cut off by the opening of the front door to allow Ms Ueuna to enter.  
  
“I’m terribly sorry,” Ms Ueuna said as she came closer. “We were having a problem out in area 4C. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.” The color was high up on her cheeks, her hair disheveled no doubt from the wind that had been picking up.  
  
“It’s fine,” Danny said warmly. “We’ve only been here for a couple of minutes.”  
  
“Good,” she sighed. “You want to check the storage buildings?”  
  
“Yes,” Steve said. “Buildings 12 and 16 specifically.”   
  
“Of course,” Ms Ueuna agreed, lifting the part of the front desk which closed off the entrance to the office from the waiting/gathering area. “I’ll get the keys.”  
  
Steve nodded, frowning at her as she went into her office. Danny nudged him into the corner further away from the front counter where Na’ee was silently crying.  
  
“What’s with you?” Danny demanded quietly.  
  
“What?” Steve asked. But it was clear he was prevaricating about not understanding.  
  
“Stop yelling at everyone. They aren’t suspects. Na’ee hasn’t stopped crying since we came in. Hiako looks like she’s barely holding it together. They’ve lost a friend. They don’t need you going hard-ass on them.”  
  
“They may be suspects,” Steve said, crossing his impressive arms over his equally impressive chest. His tattoos peeked out from under the edge of his sleeves, his shirt almost the same color as his ink.  
  
“There’s no reason to think they are involved,” I said, Danny nodding.  
  
“They are victims too, Steve. Stop scaring them.”  
  
“I’m not doing anything,” Steve protested, Danny shaking his head.  
  
“Go outside and continue _not_ doing anything. We’ll be there in a minute.”  
  
“Fine,” Steve said, clearly reluctantly to do as Danny asked. But he did leave the building. We could see him through the front window pacing as we waited for Hiako to return.  
  
“Everything all right?” she asked, two lanyards clutched in her hand, the keys clanging very softly.  
  
“Steve’s wound a little tight,” Danny assured her. “Would it be easier if we went by ourselves?” Danny asked, moving aside to let 4 paying customer approach the front desk. Na’ee managed to compose herself enough to check them in, making sure they signed all the requisite forms.  
  
“Would you mind?” Hiako asked in relief. “I would go but….” She glanced over at Na’ee, clearly worried in a maternal kind of way.  
  
“It’s not any problem,” Danny assured her. “We’ll contact you if we have any questions.”  
  
“Of course,” she said. “The golf carts are behind the office if you want to take one. There’s room for all three of you.”  
  
“That would speed things up,” Danny agreed.  
  
“You think Steve will let you drive?” I asked Danny quietly as Hiako went to get the golf cart key.  
  
“Doubtful. We should have brought helmets,” he said before accepting the key. “We’ll bring it back unharmed.”  
  
“I’m not worried,” she said. “Please do whatever it takes to find out who did this terrible thing.”  
  
“We will,” Danny promised with a nod. We left the office, Danny explaining that we were going to take one of the golf carts to the first storage building. He shook his head when Steve held out an expectant hand. “No. Absolutely not. You are not driving the golf cart. You will take the curves at 50 miles an hour, overturning it and killing us all.” Danny did not pause in his rant as we went toward the back of the building.  
  
“If you drive, it will take until next week,” Steve said, standing stubbornly by the driver’s side, his hand still out.  
  
“If you drive, we’ll all die,” Danny countered, giving him a gentle shove out of the way and taking the driver’s seat. I sat on the shelf at the rear, my back turned to them. Better to disguise the fact that I couldn’t help but laugh at them.  
  
“Fine,” Steve finally conceded, climbing into the cart and folding his legs to make them fit. Danny nodded in satisfaction, carefully backing the cart out of its station and driving down the path. “Take the next right,” Steve directed, pointing at the crossroad and then referring to the map he held.  
  
Danny did it, driving at a reasonable rate of speed until we arrived at shelter 12. It was painted green, visible through the trees but not disruptive to the overall feeling of the paintball park – that you were out in the middle of no place. The shelter had four picnic tables and a small grill beneath the open roof. The back of the shelter was enclosed with a sign that said EMPLOYEES ONLY PLEASE.   
  
After pulling on his gloves, Danny unlocked the door and turned on the light. The storage area had no windows and would have been pitch if not for the lights overhead. Before us was a wall of containers, all of which looked like standard Rubbermaid storage bins, dark grey, about 3 feet long, 2 feet high, _Paintball Explosion_ stenciled on the sides.  
  
“Paintballs?” Steve said, using the sturdy stepstool to hoist down the one from the first stack of bins, four high.  
  
“What else would it be?” Danny said, pulling open the top. Inside were 12 white plastic containers, barrel-shaped with screw-on lids. He pulled out one of the jars, taking off the top to find it filled with yellow paint balls. “Paintballs.”  
  
“Clearly,” Steve said, taking down the second bin in the stack. Opening it revealed that it also contained 12 jars of paintballs. “Blue.”  
  
Danny opened the third container, also discovering yellow paintballs. “Well. This seems pointless.”  
  
“Is there a way they can tell what color paintballs are inside?” I asked, looking at all of the identical bins facing us.   
  
“They all look exactly the same,” Danny said, shaking his head. “How do they how many of each color they have?”  
  
“Wait. Wait,” Steve said, stepping back up to take down the top bin from a different stack. He placed it on the floor to open it, pulling out red paintballs. “Look,” he said, pointing at the stenciled words. “It’s in red. This one is blue, this one yellow.”  
  
“Of course,” Danny said. “The colors inside match the words on the outside.”  
  
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “But where does that leave us?”  
  
Danny looked from the stacks of bins to Steve and back. “We have yellow, blue, and red so far. See any white or green?”  
  
“Here’s white,” I said, pointing to the stack against the wall. Steve moved the stepstool in order to reach up for the bin. When I opened it, I found jars of white paintballs, as advertised.  
  
“Everything seems to be in order,” Steve said in some frustration. “Why would anyone kill him over paintballs?”  
  
“There’s got to be something we’re missing,” Danny said, shaking his head. “It makes no sense.”  
  
“His unsent email said he thought something was wrong,” I said out loud although I was talking mainly to myself.  
  
“But not what,” Danny said, his gloved hands on his hips as he stared at the bins in accusation. “This seems pointless.”  
  
“Let’s go to 16,” Steve said, putting the bins back in order. “Maybe we’ll find something there.”  
  
“I hope so,” Danny said, leaving the building and locking the door behind us. “No, you still aren’t driving.”  
  
Steve frowned at him but rounded the golf cart to get into the passenger seat without verbal complaint. I resumed my seat in the storage area, not the most comfortable place I’ve ridden but not the worst either. I was glad I was wearing jeans since the dirt wouldn’t show overly much.  
  
We passed two groups of paintballers as we drove down the path, Danny slowing as we approached them, giving them ample time to clear the path for us. They waved at us, their faces reflecting the fun they were having pursuing their friends across the paintball course.  
  
We left the cart when Danny pulled in front of 16, the three tables unoccupied. This shelter also came equipped with a bathroom which I decided to take advantage of while there was the opportunity. When I entered the storage area, Steve was taking down a bin to set it on the floor next to one already there.   
  
“Anything?” I asked as much to let them know I was back as to learn what they had found out. I pulled my gloves back on, aware of the need to keep any possible evidence uncontaminated.  
  
“Not yet,” Danny said, opening the bin that Steve had just hoisted down. “Wait,” Danny said, straightening to look down at the bin with white stenciled words. “There are two jars missing.”   
  
“That’s strange,” Steve said. “Why wouldn’t you take the entire case if you need white paintballs?”  
  
“You would, wouldn’t you?” I said, feeling a little stupid. But it was strange. Why would anyone take two jars and leave the rest behind?  
  
“Check the next white bin,” Danny said, pointing up at the bin on top of the next pile. Steve stepped up for it, bringing it down for Danny to open. It also contained only 10 jars.   
  
“Call Hiako and ask her to come,” Steve said, pulling down a red bin and opening it. It had 12 jars.   
  
Danny nodded, leaving the storage area to make the call. It was only a moment later that he returned, putting his phone in his pocket. “She’ll be here as soon as she can.”  
  
Steve nodded as he opened the white bin he had taken down. It also was missing two jars. “All the white bins so far only have ten.”  
  
“Are some colors used more than others?” Danny asked as he lifted a yellow bin from its place.  
  
“Not really. You can request a color if you are particular. Otherwise they are assigned randomly,” I said as Danny opened the bin with yellow lettering. It contained only 10 jars. “These are yellow, aren’t they?” I asked. Danny unscrewed one of the lid with a frown, finding yellow paintballs inside.  
  
“The other missing ones were white, right?” Danny said, showing the yellow ones to Steve. Steve nodded, taking down another white bin. It had 12 jars inside. The next three bins he took down were all full, the fourth one a yellow bin with only 10 jars.  
  
“Did you find something?” Hiako asked as she came into the storage room.  
  
“Some of these bins only have ten jars,” Danny said, pointing to the open bins that were taking all of the spare floor space.  
  
“That doesn’t make sense,” Hiako said, looking into one of the bins of white paintballs.  
  
“If you need a certain color, you take the entire bin, right?” Danny asked.  
  
“We do,” Hiako agreed. “There’s no reason that the bins shouldn’t be full.”  
  
“We haven’t checked every bin,” Steve said unnecessarily as it was clear some were still in their tidy stacks. “So far the ones with ten have been white and yellow.”  
  
“I don’t understand why they wouldn’t contain twelve jars,” she said again. “Do you think someone killed Ronnie because of the missing jars?”  
  
“That hardly seems likely,” Danny said soothingly. “The locks weren’t damaged. Who has keys to these units?”  
  
“I do. And Ronnie did. That’s all. If I wasn’t here, Ronnie was. If neither of us were, we made sure there were enough of every color for the day’s play.”  
  
“No one else had access?” Steve asked.  
  
“No. Na’ee only works Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. We have several other part-time employees. Ronnie and I were the only ones full time. It’s company policy that only full-time employees are allowed keys to the storage shelters.”  
  
“We’re going to need to take a several of these bins,” Steve said.  
  
“Of course,” Hiako said with a nod. “Take as many as you need. We have plenty of each color.”  
  
Steve nodded, picking up one of the yellow bins. Danny and I each picked up one of the white ones. “We’ll return them after we’ve had our lab check them over.”  
  
“Of course,” she said, going out with us. “I’ll take you back,” she said to me since my ‘seat’ was now filled with bins.  
  
“We’re done?” I asked, just to make sure.  
  
“Yeah. We’ll take these to Charlie Fong and have him check for anything anomalous,” Danny said, sitting in the driver’s seat while Steve climbed into the passenger side.  
  
I nodded, getting into Hiako’s golf cart with her.  
  
“You aren’t a part of Five-0,” she said conversationally.  
  
“I’m here from Washington State,” I explained. “Our governor wants to see if we can create a task force like theirs.”  
  
“You are in law enforcement?”  
  
“I am the governor’s law enforcement liaison,” I said to her nods.   
  
“That makes sense,” she said. “Are you enjoying your stay?”  
  
“Hawaii is beautiful. I haven’t had a lot of time to enjoy the beaches,” I said.  
  
“Will you?” she asked glancing over at me.  
  
“I hope so. I’m here for another week. I had thought I’d have the weekend to go to the beach but we’ll be working straight through.”  
  
“Please make sure Commander McGarrett understands how much we appreciate Five-0 looking into this terrible thing,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.  
  
“I will,” I promised, leaving the golf cart when she had it safely parked in its space. I rounded the building to help move the bins from the cart to the trunk of the Camaro, which was larger than it looked. Steve had to do some rearranging to make room, Danny complaining about all of the random _shit_ stored in his car.  
  
“Tear gas. Really, Steven? And a SR-25 sniper rifle? Really?”  
  
“The rifle is Kono’s,” Steve said, moving it further back.  
  
“That’s not helpful. And the tear gas? That could have exploded while Gracie was in the car with me?”  
  
Steve just shrugged, putting a few of the smaller items in the well with the spare tire. There wasn’t a lot of room available because he apparently used it for storage on a regular basis. “I put the hand grenades back here. Like you asked me to.”  
  
“That would be a great help if I was rear ended,” Danny said, shaking his head. “You really are a Neanderthal, aren’t you?”  
  
“I don’t think Neanderthals used explosives,” I suggested, earning me a scowl from Danny and a smile from Steve.  
  
“No comments from the peanut gallery,” Danny grumped, picking up one of the bins now that Steve had made room for them.  
  
“Danny, be nice,” Steve said, putting the last bin in the trunk.  
  
I just laughed. Their method of communication was unorthodox but it worked for them. And that’s all that mattered.   
  
  



	3. Long Drink of Cool Water

We went to the HPD lab and delivered the bins to Charlie Fong. He was the one who ran all of the tests for them because much like Max, Charlie was an ‘unofficial’ member of the 5-0 team.  
   
“What am I looking for?” Charlie asked, peering into one of the bins.  
   
“Anything that doesn’t belong in a bin of paintballs,” Danny said.  
   
“Also dust for prints, just in case,” Steve said.  
   
“Right. And you need this yesterday,” Charlie said.  
   
“Of course,” Danny agreed, clapping Charlie on the shoulder before leaving the lab. Steve and I brought up the rear. “Let’s go to Kamekona’s.”  
   
“For lunch or for info?” Steve asked as he entered the Camaro on the driver’s side.  
   
“Some of each. Maybe he knows something about Paintball Explosion _,_ ” Danny suggested.  
   
“You just want to ask him so you can expense our lunches,” Steve said, Danny ignoring him. “Do you like shrimp?” he asked me.  
   
“Very much,” I agreed. “Kamekona is a chef?”  
   
“Not exactly. He owns a shrimp truck,” Danny said.  
   
“You eat shrimp out of a truck?”  
   
“It’s common in Hawaii,” Steve assured me. “Like hot dog carts on the mainland.”  
   
I nodded. It made sense that an island would have trucks that sold shrimp. I guess. Well, it was Hawaii and not Washington where there is no possible way you eat shrimp from anything but a regular restaurant. But I didn’t share that opinion. Things were different in Hawaii.  
   
“You can get it without pineapple,” Danny informed me.  
   
“I like pineapple,” I said.    
   
“See, Danno. _Some_ people like fruit with their food,” Steve told him. “Danny hates pineapple mixed in with his food.”  
   
“Oh,” I said. What else was there to say? Almost everything I had eaten since I arrived had pineapple as an ingredient or garnish.  
   
“It started with pizza,” Steve said, ignoring Danny’s glare over at him. “Now he won’t eat it with anything.”  
   
“I like pineapple on pizza,” I said which I knew was a mistake. As I expected, Danny launched into a full-on rant about the sacrilege of pineapple anywhere near pizza. I had to laugh, Danny frowning at me even harder.    
   
Steve pulled into an open area right by the beach with several picnic tables and a huge orange truck with shrimp painted on it. Except the shrimp had a man’s face, a man I soon learned was Kamekona himself.  
   
“Shamu,” Danny said when the large native Hawaiian ambled over.  
   
“Shorty,” Kamekona said as they did a complicated bro-hug/handshake thing. “What brings you to my eatery on this resplendent day?”  
   
Steve introduced us and Danny suggested what I should eat. I let him order since I had no idea what the names of the dishes meant. Being a fellow _haole_ , I knew he’d order something mainlander appropriate.  
   
“Do you know anything about Paintball Explosion?” Steve asked Kamekona when we were seated with our plates and coconut water.  
   
“Not a thing. Never played. I present too expansive a target.”  
   
“That’s for sure,” Danny agreed.  
   
“Keep it up, Shortman,” Kamekona said. Danny ignored him, eating more of his lunch. “Why? Trouble?”  
   
“Something like that,” Steve said.  
   
“Sorry I cannot enlighten you on that particular criminal element,” Kamekona said.  
   
“Shrimp’s really good,” Danny said, eating more of his rice.  
   
They talked of topics and people I didn’t know but I didn’t mind. Their conversation made up in entertainment what it lacked in information.  
   
“Hey, Babe,” Danny said after he had dialed Kono. “We’re at Shamu’s. You and Chin want us to bring you some back?... yeah, we can do that….See you in ten.”  
   
Kamekona was already headed back to his truck to prepare the to-go lunches for Chin and Kono while Steve, Danny, and I discussed the paintball mystery.  
   
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Steve said out loud what we were all thinking.  
   
“When have our cases ever made sense?” Danny asked. “We get the hard ones.”  
   
“That’s for sure,” Steve agreed. “You don’t have Gracie this weekend, right?”  
   
“You know I had her last weekend. So I get her next weekend. When we are going hiking to see the rock carvings.”  
   
“Petroglyphs,” Steve corrected. “If you can’t remember the proper term for them, I’m not taking you back up. Gracie and I will go.”  
   
“Oh no. I’m not letting my precious daughter climb up the side of that mountain with just you. You’ll go break your fool arm again and strand my precious Monkey. No no no.”  
   
“Break you arm?” I had to ask.    
   
Steve was about to explain when Kamekona returned with the two boxes. “Give my very best greetings to the cousins,” Kamekona said as he handed over their lunches.  
   
“You know we will,” Steve said. After appropriate good-byes, we drove back to headquarters. “Anything?” Steve asked as we entered. Chin and Kono were standing by the tech table, happily accepting the boxes.  
   
“Not a thing,” Chin said. He and Kono carried their boxes to the conference room, Steve and I following. Danny detoured by the break room for bottles of water which he distributed when he joined us. “It doesn’t make sense.”  
   
“That seems a common refrain,” Danny said, shaking his head. He did tell them about the missing jars and that Charlie was checking them for anything out of the ordinary.  
   
“Just two jars from each bin?” Kono asked, frowning like that couldn’t possibly be right.  
   
“Yeah. Yellow and white,” Danny said.  
   
“Yellow and white?” Chin asked. He had a considering expression on his face, trying to figure it out.  
   
“Yeah,” Danny said. “What, Chin Ho? What are you thinking?”  
   
“It could not mean anything,” Chin said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But when I was looking at the invoices on Ronnie’s computer, there seemed to be more for yellow and white paintballs than any other color.”  
   
“There should have been the same number of each, don’t you think?” Kono asked, watching her cousin.  
   
“You’d think so,” Chin said.    
   
“Hiako confirmed that unless someone specifically asked for a color, they are distributed randomly,” I said.  
   
“Then there should always be the same number ordered,” Kono said, the others nodding absently.  
   
“Are the invoices still on the table?” Steve asked Chin as he stood.  
   
“Yeah,” Chin agreed, making to stand.  
   
“No, Chin. You and Kono finish. We’ll look at the invoices while you eat,” Danny said, following Steve out. I followed Danny. Steve was frowning up at the screens when we got to the bullpen, his arms crossed.  
   
“Well?” Danny asked, standing next to him, Danny’s shoulder brushing Steve’s arm.  
   
“Here,” I said, pulling up three more invoices on a different screen.  
   
“How do you know how do that when I can’t?” Danny asked me.  
   
“You can barely turn your laptop on,” Steve told him but Danny just ignored him.  
   
“Look at these,” Steve said, pointing at the series of invoices on the screen. “This one has 12 of each color, except yellow and white. There are 15 of each of those.”  
   
“Here too,” Danny said, indicating the next invoices. Each sheet showed the same number of cases except yellow and white which had three or four extra each time. “What kind of sense does that make?”  
   
“None,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Let’s call Charlie and see if he’s found anything.”  
   
“All right. But he’s only had them for an hour. He yells, it’s on you,” Danny warned.  
   
“We dropped them off two hours ago,” Steve said.  
   
“So he doesn’t get to eat? We did. They are. Charlie can’t eat?” Danny demanded.  
   
Steve shrugged, dialing Charlie. “Charlie. You’re on speaker.”  
   
“Hey Steve. I was just about to call you,” Charlie’s voice said.  
   
“What’d you find?” Steve asked.  
   
“Nothing,” Charlie said.  
   
“That’s less than helpful,” Danny said in exasperation.  
   
“Actually, it may be,” Charlie said. “I didn’t find _anything_. No fingerprints, no dust, no dirt, _nothing.”_  
   
“Nothing,” Danny repeated. “Like someone had erased any trace of human presence.”  
   
“Exactly,” Charlie said. “There should have been a stray fingerprint. Some dirt from when they were packed. But there’s nothing.”  
   
“Any residual cleaning solutions?” Steve asked, bouncing on his toes.  
   
“I’m checking for that now,” Charlie said. “Even if we find any, I don’t think it will help very much.”  
   
“Yeah. But something will be better than what we have now,” Danny said.  
   
“I hear you,” Charlie said. “I’ll keep checking and let you know if I find anything.”  
   
“Or more of nothing,” Steve said, making Charlie laugh.  
   
“Right. I’ll keep you informed.”  
   
“Thanks,” Steve said, punching the _end call_ button. “Back to square one.”  
   
“We know someone is tampering with the bins,” Danny said, looking up at the invoices. “Where is Paintball Explosion headquartered?”  
   
We studied the invoices which said they originated from Vancouver Washington.    
   
“Vancouver’s big into paintball?” Danny asked me.  
   
“Apparently. I had no idea,” I said honestly.    
   
“You know anyone who is?” Danny asked.  
   
“Actually I might,” I said. “An accountant on staff is married to someone who works in paintball. I’m not friends with his wife but we’ve met several times.”  
   
“An accountant and a paintballer,” Danny said.  
   
“Yeah. It works,” I said. “What time is it back home? You’d think I’d know,” I said, glancing around for a clock. There wasn’t one visible.  
   
“It’s 13:45 here. Washington is 3 hours ahead,” Steve said.  
   
“Or 1:45 for those us not in the Army. That makes it 4:45 in Washington,” Danny said.  
   
“ _Navy_ , Danno. I’m in the _Navy_.”  
   
“Whatever,” Danny said, waving off his protests.  
   
“I’ll call Rick. But he may have left for the day. I only have his work number,” I said, dialing his office. Fortunately, he was still at his desk and picked right up.  
   
“I thought you were in Hawaii,” he said when I had identified myself.  
   
“I am,” I said, explaining why I was calling. I told him bits and pieces, the whole story too complicated to repeat. He readily gave me his wife’s office number, and we hung up.  
   
I called Valerie but had to leave a message with one of her employees. She was tied up with customers but he said he would ask her to call as soon as she had the chance.  
   
“What was in the bins that has been removed?” Danny asked himself as much as any of us. Kono and Chin had joined us, looking at the invoices.  
   
“This shipment is due to be delivered to the park on Tuesday,” Chin said, pointing at the bill of lading.  
   
“Which means it’s already in the port,” Steve said.  
   
“Port?” Kono said.  
   
“They are too heavy to fly. They’d be shipped in,” Steve said, pointing to the lading that said _transport via container._ “Container means boat.”  
   
“Can we go to the port and seize the shipment?” Chin asked.  
   
“Not without probable cause,” Danny reminded them. “If we don’t have probable cause, we could find the Statue of Liberty and the case would be thrown out.”  
   
“The Statue of Liberty wouldn’t fit in a shipping container,” Steve said, getting the expected response.  
   
“An example, Steven. No one is shipping the Statue of Liberty anywhere least of all here. Don’t you think we would have heard if it had been stolen? I don’t even know where….”  
   
The rest of his rant was cut short by my phone ringing. I answered it, explaining to Valerie where I was and asking her if I could put her on speaker.  
   
“Yes, of course,” she said. We could hear her moving followed by the sound of a softly closing door. “Rick called. Told me to call you as soon as I could.”  
   
“Do you have dealings with Paintball Explosion?” I asked.  
   
“No. I’ve never heard of them. There is a Paintball Express in Vancouver that is one of the biggest suppliers of paintball equipment,” she said.  
   
“Paintball Express?” I repeated.  
   
“Yes. They supply to parks and to individuals. But we don’t deal with them.”  
   
“Why is that?” I asked.  
   
“They aren’t the most reputable of firms. And there are rumors that they use their paintball business as a front.”  
   
“A front,” Steve said. “This is Steve McGarrett. Head of the taskforce. What are they fronting? Do you know?”  
   
“I’ve heard rumors. But that’s all they are.”  
   
“What rumors, Valerie?” I prompted.  
   
“They smuggle drugs in the paintballs. They are manufactured in Mexico and some of the paintballs actually contain cocaine,” she said softly like she was avoiding being overheard.  
   
“Cocaine,” Steve said in a hard voice.  
   
“Yes. It’s just a rumor, Mr. McGarrett. I’ve never heard of anyone finding it or…. Well. The paintball industry isn’t so large that gossip doesn’t spread.”  
   
“Understood,” Steve said. “Is there anything else you can tell us about Paintball Express that might help?”  
   
“I don’t think so. As I said, I never deal with them. Most of my friends in the business use them if they have to but try to avoid them as well.”  
   
“If you think of anything, please call me,” I requested, securing her promise that she would.    
   
Chin was studying the invoices again, pointing to the header. “Look at this,” he said. In bold letters, it said PAINTBALL EXP. “This doesn’t say Explosion or Express.”  
   
“We just thought it did,” Kono said in realization. “The fine print,” she said, pointing at it. It said _dba Paintball Explosion/Express._  
   
“So they are the same corporation,” Chin said. “Do they have a criminal record?”  
   
“No. At least not a state one. And if they had been caught smuggling drugs, I would have heard of them,” I said.  
   
“We should have someone raid their warehouse,” Steve decided.  
   
“Two problems with that, Babe. Still no probable cause. _And_ we are after Ronnie’s killer. If we have their warehouse raided, his killer will go underground. We have to be careful, a word not in your vocabulary, I understand.”  
   
Steve frowned down at him but didn’t try to argue the points. It was clear Danny was right so what could Steve say?  
   
“We have to find probable cause,” Chin said. “Do you think if they are using the paintballs to smuggle drugs, there could be some still at Olowalu Paintball Explosion?”  
   
“Charlie didn’t find anything in the bins. Which means they probably wiped them down after taking out the drug filled paintballs,” Danny said.  
   
“That makes sense,” Kono agreed. “But where does that leave us? And why kill Ronnie?”  
   
“My guess is that Ronnie figured out something was up with the missing jars,” Chin said. “He kept careful inventory and would have noticed that he had to order more white and yellow. There was a delivery late Wednesday evening.”  
   
“He was probably there early Thursday to check,” Danny said.    
   
“And stumbled on them retrieving the goods,” Steve said.  
   
“How are we going to prove it?” Kono asked. “We don’t have any cocaine. No proof.”  
   
“We need to get proof,” Steve said. “We need to get access to that container.”  
   
“Can’t you ask the Harbor Master to inspect it closely?” I asked. “They do spot-checks but if it’s inspected more thoroughly, they might find your probable cause.”  
   
“Yes,” Steve said with a determined nod. “I’ll contact him and tell him what we need.”  
   
“Wait,” Danny said, a hand on Steve’s forearm to stop him from walking away. “We need to get eyes on the people responsible for Ronnie’s death. We’ll need to bring them down as soon as the inspection turns up anything illegal. Providing it does.”  
   
“Right,” Steve said. “Who is the local owner of Paintball Explosion?”  
   
Chin typed into the computer, pulling up the business license of the local park. It was registered to Greg Auman and Belinda Carlyle.    
   
“Are those aliases?” Kono asked. “What?” she said when the others looked at her. “Greg Auman, like the Allman brothers band. And Belinda almost-Carlysle, the Go-Go’s lead singer?”  
   
“If they are aliases, they have driver’s licenses under those names,” Chin said, pulling up their DMV photos.    
   
“Any record on either of them?” Danny asked as Chin typed into the computer.  
   
“None. And here is their home address. On Diamond Head.”  
   
“Of course,” Kono said. “Mansion, no doubt.”    
   
“Without a doubt,” Danny agreed. “Can you get a lock on their cell phones?”  
   
Chin did his magic on the computer, only a few minutes elapsing before a map appeared, a blinking red dot indicating the location of one of them. “This is Greg’s phone,” he said. After one more minute of typing, a second red dot appeared right on top of the first.  
   
“And Belinda’s?” Danny asked.  
   
“Yep. They are at their house. Or at least both of their cell phones are,” Chin confirmed.  
   
“All right,” Steve said, exuding restless energy. “Kono, you and Chin track them. We’re going to go to the harbor and talk to the Master. Even before you get eyes on them, alert all transportation authorities that they are on the watchlist and are not allowed to leave the island.”  
   
“Right,” Chin agreed. “Once we know for certain we’ve found them, we’ll let you know.”  
   
“And we’ll keep them in sight until you let us know you’ve found the drugs,” Kono added.  
   
“Roger that,” Steve said, going into his office. We could hear him on the phone, presumably talking to the Harbor Master or one of his employees. He came out only a minute later, a look of grim satisfaction on his face. “We’re all set. He’s getting the dog. I said we’d be there ASAP.”  
   
“Good,” Danny said, looking over at Chin and Kono. “Arrest the bastards when we give the word. But be careful.”  
   
“Copy that,” Chin said. He and Kono pulled on their TAC vests before leaving to track the owners of the park.  
   
“Once we have the drugs, can you have the warehouse in Vancouver raided?” Steve asked me.  
   
“Absolutely. Do you want me to start the process now or wait until we have proof?” I asked, accepting a TAC vest from Danny. I pulled it on as Steve and Danny put on theirs.  
   
“How long will it take to get it going?” Danny asked. “Best case scenario is that it is raided just as soon as we find the drugs.”  
   
“I’ll call the Vancouver Chief of Police. He’ll get it set up. They can move quickly when they need to,” I said to their nods.    
   
“What if we find the drugs before Chin and Kono find the owners?” Danny asked Steve as I called Vancouver.  
   
“Unless they have eyes and ears at the harbor, they won’t know we’ve seized the cocaine. And they’re on the watchlist now,” Steve said, Danny discussing that with him as I talked to the Chief.  
   
“We’re heading for the harbor now,” I told him.  
   
“Roger that. I’ll get the process going here. Can you give me forty five minutes?” he asked.  
   
“It will probably take that long for us to get eyes on the cocaine. Honolulu Harbor is always a beehive,” I said.  
   
“Check,” he said. “All right. We’ll be in position by 6:20 our time.”  
   
“Good. I’ll call just as soon as we have our eyes on the evidence,” I assured him.  
   
“We’ll be in position,” he agreed, ringing off.  
   
“We’re all set,” I told them when Steve and Danny turned their considerable focus on me. “He’s getting it in motion and will be in position at 6:20.”  
   
“Once we have secured the drugs at the harbor, we’ll need to search the paintball park. To cover all our bases,” Danny said.  
   
“We can have HPD do that. I don’t want to shut down the park but I guess we don’t have a lot of choice,” Steve said.  
   
“Better we shut it down then have someone stumble onto the cocaine by accident,” Danny said.  
   
“I’ll have Duke send HPD out. Can you call Hiako and let her know?” Steve said to Danny.  
   
“Got it,” Danny said, taking out his cell and breaking the bad news to Hiako. From his side of the conversation, it sounded as though she was willing to shut down the park if it meant helping to discover who killed Ronnie. “All right. HPD is sending the Narc unit out with one of their dogs. I doubt the drugs are still there but we need to make sure….Yes, we’ll let you know as soon as we have arrested them… yes… thank you.”  
   
“We’re sure she’s not involved, right?” Steve said when Danny had hung up.  
   
“Pretty sure. We have no reason to suspect her. And I cannot believe she killed Ronnie.”  
   
“Maybe Duke should bring her in for questioning,” Steve said, a determined focused expression on his face, his arms crossed over his chest in a posture of ‘take no prisoners.’ Or ‘take prisoners but don’t stop until they tell you what you want to know.’ If he’d been looking at me like that, I’d have confessed to killing Ronnie. Or JFK. Or anything else he wanted me to confess to.  
   
“Stop with the aneurysm face,” Danny said, a great many hand gestures accompanying his words. “We’ll put her on the watch list, just in case. If we find any evidence she’s involved, we’ll arrest her. But I’m telling you she isn’t involved.”  
   
“Confident enough to put money where your mouth is?” Steve asked.  
   
“We are not laying wagers on the possible innocence or guilt of anyone, Babe. Let’s go to the harbor and find the drugs.”  
   
“Fine,” Steve said, his expression still unhappy. “You ready?”  
   
I agreed that I was, a borrowed gun safely stowed in my vest. I could have brought my own but it was far too much paperwork and I had hoped I wouldn’t need it while in Hawaii, a somewhat naïve hope I realize. Steve didn’t have any problem providing me a weapon so I was armed and ready.  
   
We drove to the Harbor without lights. And Danny convinced Steve to obey _most_ of the traffic regulation. As Danny pointed out, we didn’t want to alert anyone that we were suspicious of any of the cargo. They didn’t think the smugglers would be watching us or the Harbor. But the container wasn’t going anywhere and we didn’t need to call attention to ourselves or our destination.  
   
One of the guards met us at the front gate, directing us to the Berth 52A where the container was in holding. It was in a fairly isolated area so we didn’t have to worry about our presence attracting any unwanted attention. When we arrived, we found the Harbor Master and the dog with its handler waiting for us. The handler introduced himself, telling us his name was Larry, and brown and white English Springer Spaniel was named Casey.  
   
The Master checked his manifests, directing us to the exact container we needed. Fortunately, it had already been unstacked and we were able to easily open its doors. Not surprisingly, it was filled with paintball bins like the ones at Paintball Explosion, a narrow alley left open in the middle of the two sides stacked ten bins high.  
   
“The ones that are labeled white or yellow are the best place to start,” Steve said, pointing his flashlight at one of the stacks of all white. When Larry directed Casey to the bins Steve indicated, Casey showed no interest at all. Steve pointed his flashlight toward the next stack of white bins. Still no reaction. When they approached a stack of blue bins, Casey sat down and looked up at Larry.  
   
“What is it, Casey? You smell something?” Larry asked Casey who wagged in response.  
   
“These are blue,” Steve said, looking at the bins that flanked it. On one side were green and the other side more blue.  
   
“The bins are four deep,” Danny said. “Maybe the yellow or white ones are behind these.”  
   
“That would make sense,” Larry agreed.  
   
“How are we going to get to them?” Danny asked, looking at the narrow walkway and all the bins piled up on either side.  
   
“We’ll have to off-load them until we reach the ones we need,” Steve said.  
   
“We need to off-load all of them at any rate,” Danny said. “To find all the drugs.”  
   
“True,” Steve said, looking up at the wall of bins on both side of us.  
   
“I have people who can do that, Commander,” the Harbor Master said. “It will take 15-20 minutes.”  
   
Steve nodded, leaving the container, the rest of us following. We took a deep breath when we were outside, the air inside stale and heavy. The Harbor Master called in the reinforcements, four strong. It took the 15 predicted minutes for the men to off-load all the bins. They sorted them by color, the green and blue piles growing first.  
   
As they started removing the yellow bins, Casey began to bark at the first one to emerge. When the workman set down the bin, Casey sat next to it and barked up at his handler. “Good dog,” Larry told him, petting his head and providing him a treat from his pocket.  
   
Danny took pictures of the bin, to be on the safe side, then put on his gloves as Steve had done. They lifted the lid, Casey barking furiously when they took the jars out of the center.    
   
“I think we’ve found the cocaine,” Steve said, unscrewing the lid and extracting a paintball. He sliced it open, allowing a tiny cloud of powder to escape. Casey was trying to bark and Larry was trying to calm him.    
   
“Bingo,” Danny said, looking over at me. “Alert your Chief.”  
   
“Roger that,” I agreed, calling him. “It’s a go,” I said. “We think they are only in the white and yellow paintballs.”  
   
We discussed the particulars only a minute longer before hanging up so he could take care of his end. Danny was on the phone with Kono, who told him that they had spotted Auman and Carlyle but they had tried to jack-rabbit. They were in pursuit and expected to catch up to them very soon, especially since they had alerted HPD to join them.  
   
“Very good,” Danny said, hanging up.  
   
Steve was talking to the Harbor Master who was arranging to have the container isolated and made off-limits to any traffic. “I’ll leave it up to your people to figure out how much was in there,” Steve said, waving at the container.  
   
“That’s fine,” the Harbor Master agreed. “Thank you.”  
   
“Thank you,” Steve said, shaking his hand. “And thank you, Casey.”  
   
Casey barked in response, wagging his tail. Larry gave Steve a treat which he passed onto Casey, to Casey’s delight.    
   
“Do you want us to send HPD to collect the cocaine?” Danny asked.  
   
“Yes,” the Harbor Master said. “We don’t have anywhere secure to store it. And I’d rather it be off the docks.”  
   
“Understood,” Danny said, calling their main HPD contact. “Hey Duke. We need your guys to come collect an as-yet-undetermined amount of cocaine…yeah…Right. Berth 52A at the Harbor. Ask for the Harbor Master….Roger that….Thanks.” Danny hung up, coming over to join me and Steve by the Camaro. “He’ll take care of it. Any word from Kono?”  
   
“Not yet. If we hurry we can join the pursuit,” Steve said, squinting down at Danny.  
   
“No. Absolutely not. HPD is chasing them. They can’t get off the island. No,” Danny said, shoving Steve out of the way so he could get into the driver’s seat. Steve laughed, opening the passenger door and letting me climb in before entering himself.  
   
“Barbeque at my place tomorrow,” Steve announced.  
   
“Not until they get the scum bags,” Danny said.  
   
“They will. We’ll call Mr. and Mrs. Sharper as soon as they are arrested,” Steve said.  
   
“Yeah,” Danny said with a sigh. It sounded satisfied, a job well done.  
   
We were back inside headquarters before Kono called with any news.  
   
“We got them,” she reported happily on Steve’s speaker phone. “Their Mercedes is worse for wear.”  
   
“Sucks to be them,” Danny said.  
   
“Yeah. We’re bringing them to HQ so we can have the pleasure of interrogating them.”  
   
“Sounds good,” Steve said. “I’m going to call Mr. and Mrs. Sharper.”  
   
“Roger that,” Kono said, hanging up.    
   
Steve went into his office to make the phone call, Danny wandering over to Steve’s door to listen in. I went into the breakroom both to provide them some privacy and to get some water. It had been hot on the docks, much hotter than it was at home. Not that I objected to the extra sunshine but it was still odd to be so hot in January.  
   
When I heard the sounds of Kono and Chin arriving, I peered out of the breakroom. They were propelling the suspects in front of them, a man and woman both middle-aged. The woman had yellow hair courtesy of a bottle, her skin brown and wrinkled from too much time spent in the sun. Her make-up was so thick it looked as though she had applied with a spackling knife. The amount of coverage did nothing to disguise her age. Her skin-tight white jeans ended at her ankles, the bright orange platforms sandals suitable for a woman half her age. The color of her shoes matched her shirt which had an overly wide neck that allowed it to fall off of one shoulder. On Kono it would have been spectacular. On Belinda it looked ridiculous.  
   
The man with her was clearly not the brains or the brawn of the organization. He was sunk in on himself, shorter than Belinda by at least five inches, two even if she wasn’t wearing the ridiculously impractical shoes. He wore a bright green golf shirt that proudly proclaimed _Diamond Head Country Club._ His plaid golf pants were an unfortunate combination of the same shade of bright green and baby blanket pink.    
   
“You have no right,” Belinda was exclaiming loudly to anyone who would listen. “Who is in charge here? I demand that I be released immediately. You are making a big mistake. I will not….”  
   
Steve stepped out of his office, effectively looming over the loud woman who stopped mid-word to stare up at him.  
   
“You are a long drink of cool water, aren’t you?” she said, batting her fake eyelashes at him.  
   
“No. I am Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett and you are under arrest for trafficking drugs and first degree murder.”  
   
His words didn’t seem to faze her as she continued to gaze up at him, waving her cuffed hands in front of her. “This misunderstanding will be cleared up in no time. Then what say you and me have a little private chat? Just the two of us?”  
   
Steve was utterly nonplussed by her words. He glanced over at Danny as though for reinforcements but Danny couldn’t stop from laughing. He had his hand over his mouth but that didn’t disguise the fact that his entire body was trembling with laughter.  
   
“This is not a laughing matter, Detective,” Steve hissed at him quietly.  
   
“I disagree. Sir,” Danny said, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he tried to control his amusement. “Put them in interrogation rooms 4 and 5,” he finally said to Kono and Chin who nodded. In reality, there were only 2 interrogation rooms in their building but Steve felt it was far more intimidating to make it seem as though there were more. “Chin and I will see if we can get Greg to say anything. Anything at all. You and Kono can talk to Belinda. Try not to be engaged to her by the time you’re done.”  
   
“You are going to pay for this,” Steve warned Danny who only laughed harder.  
   
“Aren’t you in charge?” I asked Steve, making Danny laugh up at him.  
   
“We let him think so,” Danny said, turning to go to the interrogation rooms, Steve following and staring holes in the back of Danny’s head the entire time. By the time we arrived at interrogation room 4, Kono had Belinda secured to the chair and they were engaging in a staring match, a test of wills. My money was on Kono the whole way but I don’t think Belinda fully understood what Kono was capable of.  
   
“We found the drugs at the Harbor,” Steve announced. He was standing close enough to loom over her, Kono right beside him. I stood in the corner where I had a front row view of the entire event.  
   
“What drugs?” Belinda said, smiling at Steve. Her expression was that of a predator, as though she was a lion and Steve was a side of beef.    
   
“We haven’t found any at Olowalu Paintball Explosion but we’re sure it’s only a matter of time. And we are having your house searched. Once we find the gun that killed your employee, we’ll have you on trafficking and murder,” Steve informed her.  
   
“I assure you I have no earthly idea what you are talking about, gorgeous,” she said, utterly unrepentant. I could tell she was guilty just by looking at her. Which was not admissible in court, sadly.  
   
“Your denials are only delaying the inevitable,” Kono informed her. “We have the traffic camera showing your Mercedes outside the park the morning he was killed.”  
   
This was news to me. If Steve didn’t already know, he did a good job of disguising his surprise. If it was true, and I didn’t think Kono would lie about it, it could be very damaging to Belinda’s claim of innocence. Or ignorance in her case.  
   
“Are you having sex with her?” Belinda asked Steve who could only gawk in disbelief at her. Kono could only laugh.  
   
“He wishes he were that lucky,” Kono said, bumping Steve with her shoulder.    
   
“Yeah,” Steve said. He then seemed to realize what she had actually said. “What?” he asked, looking at Kono in some confusion.  
   
“Never mind, Boss,” Kono said, her smile dimpling her cheeks. “We’re looking into your bank accounts. It won’t surprise us to find out your balances got much healthier when you took over ownership of the paintball park.”  
   
While Kono was informing Belinda of these facts, I could see Steve reach inside for his military training, his posture hardening as his face became a mask. I was willing to bet that even Danny couldn’t tell what he was thinking at that point. Belinda leaned back a little bit in her chair. She had seen the transformation and understood it for what it was. She was suddenly far less chatty.  
   
“Did you pull the trigger or did Greg?” Steve demanded. She stared up at him silently.    
   
“It doesn’t matter,” Kono said into the silence. “You’re both going down for trafficking and murder. Good thing you like orange.” Kono swept Belinda with her eyes, the contempt clear.  
   
“Where is my lawyer?” Belinda finally demanded.  
   
“Must be stuck in traffic,” Kono said with a shrug. “Can’t imagine why else he wouldn’t be here.”  
   
“I’m not saying anything to anyone until he gets here,” Belinda informed them.  
   
“I have no place else to be,” Steve said. “Kono?”  
   
“Nope. I’m good,” Kono told him as she continued to stare at their suspect. “Did you pull the trigger? You hardly look the type.”  
   
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Belinda said. But it was patently clear she was lying.  
   
“Cocaine. Ronnie Sharper dead. He figured it out, didn’t he?” Kono demanded. “He figured out why the white and yellow paintballs had to be ordered more frequently. He was going to go to the police so you killed him before he could.”  
   
“I don’t know any Ronnie Sharper,” Belinda claimed.  
   
“That’s odd. Since he worked for you for almost two years. You signed his paycheck every other week for two years and you don’t know who he is?” Kono said, her voice dropping and sending chills down my spine. If I were Belinda, I’d have confessed by now. But Belinda continued to stare up at them, defiant and apparently calm.  
   
Steve and Kono turned toward the door when a knock sounded, Steve going over to open it. On the other side was a uniformed HPD officer.  
   
“Commander,” the officer said, looking up at Steve. “I have Mrs. Sharper with me. She wants to talk to you.”  
   
Steve nodded, telling Kono silently to stay where she was. Steve slipped out and I went with him. Right outside the interrogation room was an attractive woman in her mid-50s wearing comfortable jeans and a light sweater. Her short grey hair curled around her face, her eyes red and swollen.  
   
“Commander McGarrett,” the woman said as she struggled to find her composure.  
   
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Sharper?” Steve asked her gently.  
   
“I want to see them. I want to see those monsters for myself,” Mrs. Sharper said, looking up at Steve with something akin to pleading in her expression.  
   
He glanced quickly over at me and all I could do was give one shake of my head. This was not a good idea for anyone involved. “I don’t think it’s in your best interest,” Steve told her, one hand on her arm.  
   
“Ronnie loved his job, Commander. And they killed him because of it,” Mrs. Sharper said, tears slowly running down her face. She ignored them as she tried to explain to Steve her reasons. “I just want to see them for myself.”  
   
Steve sighed, wiping his hand over his mouth. I could tell he wanted to refuse her but he was having a hard time denying her this request. “For a minute,” he finally conceded. Mrs. Sharper nodded and we followed him back into the room. Kono watched her enter, a vague look of satisfaction on her face.  
   
Belinda’s eyes widened when she saw Mrs. Sharper enter, her breathing more rapid.  
   
Mrs. Sharper stared at Belinda, anger radiating off her body. “You killed my son.” The words were said calmly, quietly, their impact immediate on all of us. Belinda shook her head as she continued to stare at Mrs. Sharper. “Ronnie loved his job. He was proud to work there. And he was good at what he did. Too good. You killed him because he figured out what you were doing.”  
   
Belinda shook her head again, her mouth gaping open.    
   
“I don’t know if you are a religious woman or not, but I can only hope God finds a way to forgive you. I never will,” Mrs. Sharper told her, a look of almost pity on her face. “I know you don’t have children. You are too selfish for that. But the pain of losing a child is one a parent never recovers from. Never. You’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life. Just like we will.” With that, Mrs. Sharper turned and went to the door, Steve opening it to let her out. I followed, standing close by.    
   
“I’m so sorry,” I said, a hand on her arm as she regained her calm.  
   
She took a crumpled tissue out of her pocket, dabbing at her eyes and nose. “Do you have children?”  
   
“No,” I said. “But I had a sister who… died. That’s why I went into law enforcement.”  
   
“Your parents never got over it, did they?” she asked with a very sad smile.  
   
“No. They never did. They’ve learned to live with it. And they finally stopped being hyper-vigilant with us. But it left a permanent scar on us all.”  
   
Mrs. Sharper nodded. “Ronnie’s sister arrived from the mainland this morning. She had just gone back to UCLA. She’s graduating in May. I don’t think Julia has quite grasped it yet.”  
   
“I want to recommend that you all find a grief counselor. Victims of violent crimes can have a difficult time coming to terms with what has happened to their family.”  
   
“Yes,” Mrs. Sharper said with a shaky nod. “Will you ask Commander McGarrett if all of you can come to the funeral on Monday?”  
   
“Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to interfere with your family.”  
   
She took a deep breath before wiping her eyes again. “I know it’s unusual. And he may refuse. But if you will come, we’ll feel like it really is over.”  
   
“I’ll ask him,” I promised. I had no way of knowing what Steve might say. I didn’t know if 5-0 ever went to funerals of victims but that would be Steve’s call to make. “Let me walk you out.”  
   
She nodded, not saying anything as we left the building. “Thank you,” she said when we were standing next to her car.  
   
“I’ll pass on your appreciation to the ones who did the job,” I promised.  
   
She smiled sadly and got in her car, driving off and leaving an empty place in my heart. Before I went back inside, I called my mother. Sometimes you just have to say hello.  
   
When I arrived upstairs, Danny and Chin were standing by the tech table, grim satisfaction reflected in their expressions. “He spilled the beans,” Danny was happy to report.  
   
“Told us everything,” Chin added.  
   
“Did she pull the trigger?” I asked, trying to quell some of my anger.  
   
“They hired someone to do it. Greg is going to help us find him. They stupidly let the hitman drive their Mercedes. Since they were at the park regularly, they thought it would be less obvious,” Chin said.  
   
Danny nodded toward the main doorway. “You were outside?”  
   
I explained about Mrs. Sharper and said she wanted them at the funeral on Monday. “Do you think Steve will agree?”  
   
“Probably,” Danny said. “We don’t normally go but we aren’t normally invited.”  
   
“That makes sense,” I had to agree.    
   
“Will you come with?” Chin asked me.  
   
“I’m not part of 5-0,” I pointed out unnecessarily.  
   
“But you helped us figure it out,” Danny reminded me. “And you’ll still be here.”  
   
I could only nod. “If you go, I will too.”  
   
We chatted ideally for another few minutes, all of us waiting for Steve and Kono, to find out what they had learned. Not that it really mattered after Greg’s complete confession. He and Belinda were going away for the rest of their lives.  
   
It was 20 minutes before Steve and Kono left the interrogation room to come to the bullpen.    
   
“Well?” Danny asked.  
   
Steve shook his head, Kono frowning.  
   
“Hardly matters,” Danny was happy to report. “Greg confessed.”  
   
“And you didn’t tell us?” Kono demanded.  
   
“We didn’t want his confession to interfere with your interrogation,” Chin said reasonably.  
   
“They’ll both be put away for the rest of their lives,” Danny said. “Duke called. There were 32 jars of paintballs at the harbor that contain cocaine.”  
   
“That will put a dent in the trafficking on the islands,” Steve said in satisfaction. “Mrs. Sharper okay?”  
   
“I think she will be. I encouraged her to enter grief counseling. And she wants you all to attend the funeral on Monday,” I said. “I told her I’d pass on the request.”  
   
“It seems fitting,” Kono said. “I know we don’t usually go. But I’d like to.”  
   
The guys agreed with that it was appropriate for them to go, insisting that I also attend. I had to agree to their combined persuasiveness.  
   
“Greg told us that none of the employees at the park knew anything about the drugs,” Danny told us. “Hiako is not a suspect.”  
   
“You call and let her know we arrested them?” Steve asked.  
   
“No. I thought you’d want to do that,” Danny said to Steve’s nods.  
   
“Did they find any drugs at the park?” Steve asked.  
   
“We haven’t heard from Duke on that,” Chin said, checking the table for missed phone calls or any forms of electronic messages. “I’ll give them a call.”  
   
Steve went to his office, Danny following. Kono and I stayed with Chin as he contacted HPD to ask about the search of the park.  
   
“Chin,” the older man on the screen said when they had connected.  
   
“Howzit Duke?” Chin said.  
   
“Busy day,” the man said.    
   
“Did they finish the search of Olowalu Paintball Explosion?” Chin asked him.  
   
“They haven’t searched all the storage buildings yet. But they did find cocaine in two jars of white paintballs.”  
   
“Good,” Chin said. “Proof they were using them to smuggle the drugs.”  
   
“I’ll let you know when they’ve finished the last of the buildings,” Duke assured us.  
   
“Appreciate it,” Chin said with a nod before disconnecting. He looked tired but satisfied, two things we all had in common at that point.  
   
I took my cell phone out when it buzzed, putting it on speaker. Steve and Danny were coming out of Steve’s office, joining us at the table. “Chief. I have you on speaker.”  
   
Chin and Kono stood a little closer to Steve and Danny as the Chief of Vancouver Police reported that they had completed the raid of the Paintball Express warehouse and had seized at least 1000 pounds of cocaine. “They were using it as a central distribution. Sending the drugs all over the country.”  
   
“We got the owners of our local park,” Chin said after he introduced himself. “Are you putting out an alert for the other local owners?”  
   
“Already done,” Chief confirmed. “We’ve heard from Utah. They’ve arrested the owners and found several jars on their property. We’ll keep you informed as more arrests are made.”  
   
“Who are the principals of Paintball Express?” I asked.    
   
We could hear a soft rustling before he answered. “According to what we’ve been able to piece together, it looks like it’s owned by one of the shell corporations controlled by the Juárez Cartel. We can’t confirm but all signs point to them.”  
   
“There had been rumors of them trying to infiltrated Washington and Oregon,” I said. “Sounds like they succeeded.”  
   
“Yeah. We heard they wanted to establish here as a gateway to Canada,” Chief said. “Hopefully this will disrupt their supply chain.”  
   
“I’d say it will help,” I said with a nod.  
   
“The Governor called after the raid. She wants you to call when you have a chance,” Chief said to me.  
   
“Of course,” I agreed. “Do you need us for anything else?”  
   
“Not right now. We’ll keep you updated,” he said before disconnecting.  
   
“Job well done,” Steve said with a nod. Chin told him what Duke had said about the jars as I went into the breakroom to call Governor Gregoire. I was put straight through when I indentified myself to her top aide.”  
   
“Governor,” I said.  
   
“Excellent work,” she said to me. I could hear her satisfaction over the phone.  
   
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said. “The Five-0 team deserves all the credit.”  
   
“That’s not the way I heard it,” she said. “Are you staying the rest of the time?”  
   
“If you don’t need me, I’d like to,” I said.  
   
“Of course. Please pass on our appreciation to Commander McGarrett and the team for putting a stop to the drug ring supplying most of the west coast.”  
   
“I will, ma’am,” I agreed. “May I suggest you call Governor Denning?”  
   
“He’s still not completely thrilled with them?” she asked with a laugh. Apparently he had had some reservations about me being with them, afraid their ‘unorthodox’ methods would spread like a morning glory vine.  
   
“They appreciate his support,” I said as diplomatically as I could. She laughed again, promising to call him without revealing the prompting she had received.  
   
“I’ll see you next Monday,” she said before we hung up. I emerged from the breakroom, everyone apparently waiting for me.  
   
“Everything okay?” Kono asked.  
   
“She wanted to thank you,” I confirmed.  
   
“So you aren’t in any trouble,” Danny said.  
   
“None. I’m still here until next weekend if you are willing to put up with me that long,” I said with a smile. They returned it, agreeing that another week could bring about more arrests, more solved murders, more paintball games. “No thanks,” I said, shaking my head at that last.  
   
They laughed, inviting me to come out to eat with them, a celebratory dinner. How could I refuse that?  
   
   
   
  _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
   


**Office of Law Enforcement Liaison**

**Washington State**

Memorandum

 

To: Governor Chris Gregoire

Re: Hawaii Five-0 Task Force

 

Thank you for the opportunity to observe the activities, methods, and results of the Hawaiian Governor’s Special Task Force, known commonly as Hawaii Five-0. This report is intended to outline my observations, as well as my official recommendations concerning the possibility of replicating this type of task force in Washington State. A full text of my time in Hawaii is appended.

During the two weeks I spent with the Task Force, I learned a great deal of what makes them as successful as they are. A summary of my findings is below:

  * The Governor’s Special Task Force (Hawaii Five-0) has an impressive solve rate and an equally impressive conviction rate.  
  * Their success can be attributed in part to the specialized skills of each member of the Task Force. Their specializations merge and support their overall activities with a unity of purpose that is impressive. 
  * The four core members have developed a working style that is part elite police force, part fraternity, part _ohana_ \- the Hawaii term for family and more. 
  * The backing of Governor Sam Denning allows them to employ unorthodox methodology when necessary.  
  * The fact that Commander Steve McGarrett is a Navy SEAL rather than schooled in police procedure means that their methods can be unconventional and have been known to raise a red flag with the members of the more traditional law enforcement organizations on the islands. 
  * Having jurisdiction over all of the Hawaiian Islands provides them swift and efficient movements and investigator prerogatives. They are not required to wait for local approval/authority to move against a suspected criminal or their associates. As Detective Danny Williams stated to me: “Our hands are not tied up with red tape.” 
  * Their open communications with local and national authorities (TSA, Homeland Security, FBI, SBI, etc.) enables the Task Force to prevent suspected criminals from fleeing the islands, and assists in determining if those under investigation have a state or national criminal record.



Concerning the investigation of the alleged cocaine smuggling using paintballs:

  * With the assistance of Greg Auman, one of the proprietors of Olowalu Paintball Explosion, the Task Force was successful in apprehending the alleged gunman, Uoli Kiwikeo, who shot Ronald Sharper. He is a member of one of the local gangs which is trying to become a more active participant within the Hawaiian criminal element. 
  * Greg Auman’s wife and partner in Olowalu Paintball Explosion, Brenda Carlyle, was continuing to proclaim her innocence of all charges concerning the smuggling and the murder of their employee. However, with the combined statements of Mr. Auman and Mr. Kiwikeo, the Task Force feels certain there is little chance that any of them will be found not guilty of their crimes. 
  * We attended the funeral of Ronald Sharper, at the request of his family. Their presence was appreciated by his friends and family, all of whom thanked the Task Force for their speedy resolution of the mystery. 



The second week of my observation of the Task Force consisted of attending the funeral, filing the appropriate paperwork with the state and national authorities, and discussing the importation and distribution of the cocaine with both Commander McGarrett and Chief Clark of the Vancouver Police. The cocaine has been traced back to the Juárez Cartel in Mexico and the DEA is working with the Mexican _Policía Federal_ to cut off their pipelines.  

Concerning the possibility of establishing a Task Force in Washington State that emulates Hawaii Five-0:

  * Hawaii is 6423.4 square miles while Washington covers 71,303 square miles. The population of Hawaii is 1,374,810, compared to the population of Washington - 6,724,540. This decreases the likelihood of success due to size and population variances. 
  * Establishing such a taskforce would assist in disruption of drug trafficking into and from Canada. 
  * Any task force established in Washington would require the backing of and direct support of the Governor. Failing to provide these crucial elements would doom the task force to failure. 
  * My ultimate recommendation is that a task force similar to Hawaii Five-0 be established in Washington State, with the provision that it is on a trial basis. Those hired to establish and work for the proposed task force would need to be fully cognizant that no guarantees exist as to the annual continuation of funding and/or support. 



Should the task force prove to be successful, further funding and support would then be recommended.

Thank you again for the opportunity to travel to Hawaii and observe the Task Force in action. If you require any additional information about my time there, or have any questions concerning this report, please contact me at your convenience.

 


End file.
